I went out to Easely Amused with a friend last night. It's this art studio where you join a class of other folks and basically follow instructions from the teacher to all paint the same painting. (I know, I know, it's totally suburbia. And there was a point there, when we were all tapping the water off our brushes, and forty little tapping noises mingled in the air simultaneously, when I thought, "Creativity by committee!! Aaaack!" BUT, I have to admit, I did have fun.)
Laura, the friend I took, just happens to have minored in art history. And her uncle is an artist by trade. So maybe I was hoping for some fun, snarky comments along the way. (Which I totally got, thankyouverymuch.)
So we all sit down in front of our identical canvases with our identical brushes and paints, wearing our identical aprons. And, following the teacher's instructions, we all paint. And here's the mind-blowing thing: everybody's painting looked completely different. I mean, yeah, we all had fields of poppies. And we all used the same colors. But other than that, it all looked different. Really different. It was kinda cool. In a way, it really proves how subjective art is, how we all approach it in a different way, from a different perspective, how we all have a slightly different idea of what we want the finished project to look like.
The class took about 2 hours, and it was a cheap, fun activity. I enjoyed painting and hooting over everything with Laura.
Incidentally, my painting looks like hell. Laura's looks great. No surprise there! I'm hoping, though, that maybe at least my mom won't think it looks awful. We shall see!