carol j watson

This article will make its official debut in the March 2010 of Austin Family Magazine and website. Be sure to pick up a copy at a location near you!

When people find out that I am an art teacher, certain responses are predictable: “Oh, I’m not good at art,” or “I can’t draw,” or “Be glad I’m not in your art class!” These comments are unfortunately common, and depending on the situation, I debate internally whether to simply accept their statement as fact, politely encourage them with an optimistic remark, or engage in a conversation about their experiences with art. Regardless of my decision, one thing routinely, painfully, becomes clear: Little I say will sway them from their negative opinion of themselves as artists.

Simultaneously, these self-proclaimed non-artists often wax poetic about their desire to be artistic, yearning for that nebulous Art Talent which they themselves never attained. I wonder at what point these people lost sight of their artful lives. Ironically, these folks also speak of few or sporadic art classes and experiences growing up. Or, they refer to art experiences limited to “coloring inside the lines” at the behest of their well-meaning homeroom teacher. In the absence of rigorous and dedicated art education, their idea of art and what art is grew stunted and uninformed.

On the other hand, individuals who actually had art class in school on a regular basis confide in me that they view their artistic ability as average or above. Furthermore, if they connected even only a little with their art teacher, they were deeply and positively impacted in a constructive and permanent way. Art is seen as something more than the ability to draw; art is a lens with which they view life. Over and over I hear from people I meet, see from students I teach, that art is the glue that connects the many different parts of their lives. Artful or creative thinking adds interest and innovation in an otherwise dull day at the office. Some days I am certain that it is my art class that made a particular student rise out of bed and come to school.

There is something special about arts education during the formative years of youth. More than just an “extra” in a child’s day, art is an essential component in developing a child’s ability to see the world around her in a critical, qualitative, and affective way. More than just learning how to draw, art education teaches a child to see, to perceive, and to represent her environment, ideas, and responses in a variety of ways. More than just creating a sculpture or painting, art education compels a child to be in touch with her emotional and intellectual motivation for making certain aesthetic choices. The young artist must articulate what is often more easily represented with images, colors, textures, or form.

Furthermore, research continues to show us that students receiving a fine arts education perform higher on standardized tests such as the SAT, enter the working world better equipped to meet the demands of 21st century employers, and support the arts as an economic force in their communities. CreateTexas (www.createtexas.org) lists no fewer than 20 reasons as to why Texas’ economy depends on the arts and the creative sector. The Texas Commission on the Arts (www.arts.state.tx.us) provides data on the future of arts education (visual arts and performing arts) as seen through the eyes of CEOs and other business leaders. Repeatedly we are being forewarned that creative thinking, innovation, and communication are qualities needed for the 21st century workforce, and that exposure and interaction with the arts is one of the main components of a 21st century education.

The Texas Art Education Association features on its website (www.taea.org) compelling work by Elliott Eisner entitled “Ten Lessons the Arts Teach.” It is on display in my art room, shared by my peers in art and art education, read to my students and shared with parents, and is an invaluable reminder of why art education and Youth Art Month are critical components in the whole education of any child. For the parent, grandparent, educator, or advocate, it is invaluable articulation of why art education is important in our schools. Eisner’s list empowers those who wish to seek, protect, and demand more art instruction in schools and communities.

TAEA also promotes March as Youth Art Month on its website, and provides resources for teachers and parents interesting further promoting art education year round. Students from around the state of Texas have an opportunity to create flags promoting Youth Art Month. Winners are featured on the website. The theme for Youth Art Month for 2010-2014 is “Art Shapes the World.”

The Council for Art Education (http://www.acminet.org/cfae.htm), the official sponsor of Youth Art Month, highlights many of the benefits of art education and quality art programs in schools. Enhanced self esteem, creative problem solving, and appreciation of others are cited as some of the many benefits of art education. Youth Art Month, observed yearly in March, is a time for appreciation of art and art programs locally, regionally, and nationally. Anyone can contribute to the month’s events, and your local art teacher is a great place to start when seeking art appreciation opportunities. Through consistent and dedicated support of art education, parents, grandparents, teachers, and schools can make a positive difference in the artful lives that children lead.

I know that even as an impassioned art teacher, there is little I can do to change a person’s experience with art in the past. Regardless of where a person might fall on the creative curve, there is one thing that anyone can do: Ensure that every child’s educational future consists of rigorous, extensive, and protected arts education.

Asked what I’d like for Mother’s Day, I responded, “Let’s make garden gnomes!”

So that’s what we did. Down we sat, clay and tools in hand, in a sunny yellow kitchen overlooking our beloved garden. Armed with imagination, a few handy hand-building techniques, and a sense of humor, we all managed to create a gnome worthy of a garden.

It was a great day of art, indeed.

My husband, Arden, and I had an opportunity to attend a recent retreat for board members and volunteers of a wonderful and local non-profit organization called Georgetown Art Works. Our goals were simple: Clarify our vision as an organization, write (or at the very least agree upon the basics of) a mission statement, work on our 2009 calendar, and designate specific responsibilities and opportunities for each of us in attendance. We had an incredible facilitator, a dedicated board president, plenty of food, great ideas, and most importantly, a creative outlet. We made incredible progress.

The creative outlet, which was strictly optional, was to design a chair made from various materials: pipe cleaners, wire, beads, and imagination. As we listened, ate, talked, prioritized, laughed, and became better acquainted with one another, we also created a chair representative of us and our task at hand of “chairing” some event or task.

By the end of the retreat, several completed chairs were passed around for oohs and ahhhs…Oh, how I wished I had brought my camera! Each chair was indeed unique, representative of its creator, and just spilling over with artistic genius! The funniest, and certainly most endearing, moment was when my husband and I placed our chairs side by side. If you know us, you’ll love this picture (I snapped this picture at home):

While mine was, well, what you might expect from me, Arden’s was delightfully sturdy, stable, well-made…also what you would expect from him. I love the contrast the two chairs created, but it wasn’t until we showed the chairs to our son, Carter, when he commented on their scale. The way he put it was something like this, ” Whoever can fit into one chair can also fit into the other, isn’t that cool?” Pretty astute for a 13 year old, I think. What he hit upon is that our chairs shared the same scale. And in that moment I realized that our chairs were a perfect snapshot of our life together, me and Arden. Some similarities, some differences…well, maybe a lot of differences to those who only look at the outside, but we live our lives in scale with one another.

Perhaps that accounts for the harmony we so often experience in our household, even in these tumultuous times.

At any rate, this art activity ran deep and wide for me…I learned a lot that day of the retreat, but even more about myself, my love, and our life together later on.

Art is like that. It mirrors your reality, makes things clearer, gives voice to your life and times.

Art is worth doing.

This set features variations of brown, taupe, topaz, red, yellow, and ivory. I used both opaque and transparent glass, the latter of which creates the layered look in several of the beads. This was a new color combination for me, and I enjoyed working with it. Warm, organic, and honeyed, the end results are reminiscent of harvest time. Beyond that, the red glass brings out something primal and corporeal in the color combinations.

Blood and Honey.

I am working with jewelry designer/metalsmith extraordinaire, Jane Estes, on the International Society of Glass Beadmakers’ Convergence Project. The fundamentals of this competition are that two artists are paired, a lampworker (that’s me) and a jewelry designer (that’s Jane), to created a wearable object of art that is inspired by the four elements of water, air, earth, and/or fire.

We’ve been planning, brainstorming, sketching in our notebooks, and visiting each other’s studios in order to learn more about one another’s style, ideas, art form, and expectations. It has been exciting to collaborate with another artist on a project, and we have gotten off to an incredible start, despite one hip replacement surgery (me) and 4-year old twins (Jane)! I have found Jane to be a fountain of inspiration, with an incredible eye for style and design. My most memorable moment so far has been watching Jane play with and pick out colors from my glass inventory, creating a palette from which I would create glass beads. Pulling out the pretty rods of glass is sort of like opening a brand new box of crayons, but without the fabulous smell. It’s good.

So far, I’ve experimented with nails and screws in glass beads (see last month’s posts), and I’ve really enjoyed creating the most recent Earth and Water inspired bead set, which I will feature below. Next, I am going to focus on truly Earthen tones, and see what inspiration is derived therein.

For the last week or so, my life has been focused primarily on painkillers, sleep, and physical therapy. All good. All helpful. I’m glad my surgery was successful, and I am profoundly glad to be home. Thanksgiving dinner at the hospital did not suck, by the way. Quite tasty.

I know I’m feeling better in significant ways, because I’ve felt some creative stirrings today. Specifically, I woke from a nap with a slew of ideas, and as soon as I am done crowing about that fact I will be sketching and writing my nap ideas out.

To that point, I have gotten several really key inspirations after a good stretch of sleep. I know that when I am worried, sleep-deprived, or feeling down, my creativity takes a serious hit. Rest is good. My husband is the ultimate nap artist, and he will be so proud to read this admission: Naps are Good.

Speaking of naps, I shall now snuggle up with my sketchbook and attempt one more nap before dinner…