The Origin of an Artist
March 10th, 2007 at 2:20 am (Unschooling Life)
It’s one in the morning, and Kenzie is drawing dragons. He’s been telling me about how he chose the wing color - something light and airy, almost see-through. A nice, soft greenish color called “deco aqua.” He’s shown me how he draws the wing “bones.” He’s explained how the teeth “fit together.” He’s paid special attention to the scales, the eyes, the claws.
This is one of the reasons children need real art supplies. Crayola crayons simply aren’t adequate for blending, shading, or even filling in. Cheap colored pencils won’t do the trick, either. Kenzie requires real Prismacolor pencils in many shades. He has gotten more use out of his 120 piece pencil set than any other resource he owns. He will sit at his desk for hours, drawing under the “artist light” (an old-fashioned, quietly humming, flourescent desk lamp) and listening to old They Might Be Giants or Animaniacs songs. Every so often, I’ll hear the soft whir of the electric pencil sharpener.
Before the Prismacolors, Kenzie rarely drew. Despite his father being an artist, I assumed he simply had no interest in creating visual art. I was wrong; he just had crappy supplies. As soon as he discovered the joy of working with high quality colored pencils, he began drawing constantly and soon took to calling himself an artist - which is certainly an apt descriptor. He isn’t much interested in paints or markers or other mediums at the moment, but his pencil set goes with him almost everywhere. It is his toolkit.
My son, the artist.