Chris Clegg
Years ago, my father told his children a story when he went to grade school. He told us he was absolutely the worst student in his Art class. From the way he told the story, the worst student in the history of any art class!
“I had trouble drawing a straight line without a ruler,” he used to quip.
One day it came time to draw a picture. Dad submitted his usual scribbly mess on paper to the teacher. He was in for a big surprise when he got a “C” grade. Dad, knowing he was the worst artist ever placed on this good planet, approached the teacher, and wondered why he got a passing grade for such a lousy picture.
“Because, Billy,” said the teacher, probably with exasperation in her voice, “I know you did as well as you could and this was the best you could do!”
No matter how pathetic the picture may have been, my father was proud. He finally avoided a failing mark!
South Peace News has published art from the High Prairie E.W. Pratt High School class for years. I enjoy seeing the students craft their talents. Some are extremely talented. They need encouragement.
Like my father, I have to admit a tinge of jealousy. I would love to be able to draw. I would settle for a run-of-the-mill average picture, let alone a masterpiece! All I can create are ugly ink blots!
Charles Emerson Winchester had the same issue in MAS*H. In an episode where a concert pianist suffers a major injury to his right hand, Winchester has to convince him his talent would not be wasted. He found music written for left-handed pianists. The episode ends with the injured pianist playing a spectacular melody.
What is memorable is Winchester tells the man that, as a doctor, he can make a scalpel sing, but he can’t play. He can’t create beautiful music.
“The true gift of music resides not just in the physical ability to play, but also in the head, heart, and soul,” he tells him, adding the man already knows a joy he will never experience.
I love the piano. Wish I learned to play. Grandma had a piano at home so I had the opportunity to play. During visits, I always managed to plink and plunk my way to a few notes. It must have driven my parents and grandparents crazy. My music, I am confident, sounded not too different than clanging pots and pans.
Like my father, I was so insecure about my lack of skill I never learned to play. I regret it. Did I not have the gift?
Years ago, Luella Wood, who taught music, told me she wished she had the chance to teach me. She explained my patience for building huge crossword puzzles would be a huge asset in learning piano. I guess the old trial and error method in building crosswords is similar to learning piano.
Oh, well! That ship had gone and sailed! We all have regrets in life. Not taking advantage to learn a craft. Was it fear? Lack of security? Regret at believing I did not have the gift?
I attend craft shows all over the region and are amazed at the work vendors create. I will always wonder if I had the gift but never cultivated it.
The Pratt Art students have already taken one more step that I ever dared. I wish them well.