Pablo Picasso, Michael Angelo, Leonardo da Vinci’- I had always fancied these great names. These are the great men in the fields of drawing and painting. I had fallen in love with Mona Lisa just at the first site. I marvelled looking at it. I was always inspired by such works- even I wanted to draw like them and become famous. But, there was a challenge- how could I draw a sketch when I don’t even know how to draw a simple fruit?
The art of drawing could never be mastered by me. Leave mastering, I could not even learn it. Not that that I hated drawing or feared from it. My figures were never appropriate- they all ended up being crooked and in all the other shapes instead of the actual or the one desired. When I was in elementary school, I had to literally pester people, join hands in front of my mates to complete a drawing assigned to us in the class. My grades were excellent, but the thing in which I lacked behind was drawing. People talked about me when I turned back and not directly in front of me. Why? Was I unaware of their talks?
During my school years, there came and went three art teachers- the first one was a rather peculiar one and I am sorry to say this. The second teacher loved me and articulated the reason for me doing such worse in drawing. She left a great impression on my mind. The third one, who currently still practises in the school was good. She made me realise my faults, weaknesses and else. No doubt, my mom was the greatest teacher I could ever get, still she could not teach me drawing. I thought of practising drawing again and again, but it was the same- a dirty, unkempt picture with bad taste of hues! I was frustrated. I thought of giving up and resigning to my fate.
But something internally was pricking me- my conscience. I could not give up so easily. My parents motivated me, infact, hired a good art teacher, but to no avail. I began criticising myself- how can I give up? I wanted to compete with this world. I kept asking questions to my mom. I felt restless. I decided to give a last try.
I searched through art magazines, surfed the net, observed my friends literally like a hawk- the way they would hold their brushes, HB pencils, give the strokes and else. Finally I decided to try it myself. I started with a simple, basic scenery- a brook flowing through the mountains, nestled in a green cover. And I had done it! I quickly showed my art to my mom who was overwhelmed. Poor creature! She could finally have some peace!
Gradually I modified, practised religiously and acquired the skills. What first seemed like a vicious downward spiral, it was now an upper advantageous one. Eventually, I won a district drawing competition- I was on the seventh heaven. My joys knew no bounds!
So I guess it was my resilience, determination or the inner power to overcome this hurdle which paid off. While penning these incidences on the paper, for a moment I felt it was silly and should discard it and start writing on another topic. But the thing which I want to share through this is to be optimistic, find out the inner voice, focus and use it to the fullest extent. Because at the end, nothing is as sweet as success.