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The joy & magic of digital therapy.
(posted on Sunday, January 4 by eii wyy nae.)
The joy & magic of digital therapy.
When I was a little girl, my mommy took me here, took me there, playschool back over there, art lessons up in that pink house that's now a lawyer's office. In the pink house, back in the rooms over the garage apartment, I became enchanted with the value of natural light, and with being up high - looking out over the yard, into the trees.
It seemed to be all windows, all springtime light, summertime light, a room filled with nothing but tables full of art supplies and, all that wonderful light pouring through uncurtained windows. Thus began my longing for such a house, a house with light, with space, lots and lots of space, space to make art.
It was there I learned the magic of making a potato stamp and using that stamp to make art. Anything I wanted - any color I wanted. Yah!
In first grade, we had art 2 or 3 times a week - I don't remember. Piles of wonderful big manila drawing paper would be placed on a desk at the front of the room. We'd take a sheet, and after finishing another assignment, would take out our crayons and give ourselves over to the fun of art.
My very first assignment, I messed up and went to the front of the room, got another sheet of paper and began again, not knowing that the teacher had put out an exact number of sheets of paper - 1 for each student. When the last person came to get his sheet, there weren't any left. I was paying no attention - intent on my drawing, until the teacher accused Marco of stealing an extra sheet. At that moment I realized what was going on and was mortified - paralyzed, unable to speak.
I would have been so painfully shy that I'd actually had to be remove from a previous school and start first grade over again – otherwise, I’d suffer from selective mutism, although back then there was no name for such a thing.
Thank heavens!
I was just shy. And that day, I just froze. I knew I was the guilty party and I wanted to speak up, but I couldn't - I was terrified. Never fear, though, because another student had seen me take that extra sheet and told our teacher, who was :-
1. Stunned, because I never did anything wrong - why should art be any different?, and
2. She'd assumed Marco, the class troublemaker, was at fault, and she felt quite guilty and ashamed of herself.
I whisperingly fessed up and to this day still feel guilty about my inability to speak up. In 4th grade I had a gorgeous redheaded teacher who got married over the Christmas holidays and became Mrs. Wheeler and who taught us batik.
Oh lordy, the magic of that! I've never forgotten.
But back before I was old enough for real school, I went to playschool,which was in the backyard of one of our city's founders. There was a wooden walkway leading to outdoor rooms under the trees - the windows had no screens; it was very pavilion-like. Walls that were waist high, the rest of the rooms opened to the outside.
And there I learned my very favorite thing of all, something I've kept with me till this day. We'd be given drawing paper (God, how I loved drawing paper!) and a black crayon and we'd draw scribbles on that page. Like this:
And then we'd color it in. Like this:
And then real magic! We'd write our names with a black crayon, then trace them on the other side of the paper, exactly backwards and upside down, like this:
And THEN , we'd turn the paper 90˚ and make creatures out of our names. Like this:
And I still do this. Y-y-yup! Now however I use a computer and photographs and the magic of Photoshop. That's how the fence image at the very top of this post came to be. When stressed or depressed or needing a break, I come in and start coloring on a photo I've taken for that very purpose. Lots of sections, pretty plain, but an image I like nonetheless.
Digital therapy. It takes a long time, but eventually, after many days of a little here and a little there, it's done. I recommend it highly gangggs!
And remember poor Marco? Who was accused of stealing that extra paper I'd taken? In 3rd grade, he tried his best to kiss me (oh Lordy!) and then told everyone during Friday's Show & Tell period.
Once again, I was mortified. Speechless.
Pfft.
the diary keeper, ‘my charliegirl.
Labels: childhood’s paintings, digital collage, drawings, enchantment.
