I love my art class.
I'm in the process of taking a yearlong series of introductory drawing and painting classes through the Cultural Arts Center here in Columbus. The place is really one of this city's treasures. It's located in an old armory at the edge of Bicentennial Park, pretty close to I-70. There's all sorts of classes in anything you might want to explore, from painting to textiles to beading to pottery (they're pretty reasonably priced too -- I've found them very affordable and I would characterize my income as lower middle class). There are rotating art exhibits throughout the building (including a recent huge exhibit of John Cavanaugh's sculptures), and a pretty nifty gift shop which (I knew this blogging thing would get me in trouble, I just burnt the spaghetti! Crap! Anyway, as you were) has faculty and student works for sale. Columbus Alive agrees with me, CAC made the Best of Columbus issue this week. And the place smells like paint when you walk in. You can't beat that with a stick, folks. Actually, you could but eventually you'd get arrested, especially if you did it for hours on end.
I'm a pretty mediocre art student. I'm better at painting than drawing, because painting is easier to fudge unless you're a photorealist and I'm, well, yeah. But after the six months from hades (parent seriously ill, friends dying, car being broken into, job continuing its descent into the depths of suckitude, etc.) it's great to just go somewhere, pick up my pencil or my brush, and focus my attention on something other than myself and my woes for two and a half hours. The physical end result is, in a very real sense, irrelevant. When I have the technology I'll post on this blog some of what I've done, mostly to make up for the fact that you will probably never see a picture of me on here. I get a bit squicked out by the thought of people stumbling on this blog, seeing a picture of me, a total stranger and not a great beauty either, and going, Nope, ain't having that. I'd rather be judged on my words, and if you judge me on my art too, I can live with that.
Anyway, especially if you live in our fair city but even if you're just passing through, CAC is worth a stop. And now I need to scrub out my pan...
I'm in the process of taking a yearlong series of introductory drawing and painting classes through the Cultural Arts Center here in Columbus. The place is really one of this city's treasures. It's located in an old armory at the edge of Bicentennial Park, pretty close to I-70. There's all sorts of classes in anything you might want to explore, from painting to textiles to beading to pottery (they're pretty reasonably priced too -- I've found them very affordable and I would characterize my income as lower middle class). There are rotating art exhibits throughout the building (including a recent huge exhibit of John Cavanaugh's sculptures), and a pretty nifty gift shop which (I knew this blogging thing would get me in trouble, I just burnt the spaghetti! Crap! Anyway, as you were) has faculty and student works for sale. Columbus Alive agrees with me, CAC made the Best of Columbus issue this week. And the place smells like paint when you walk in. You can't beat that with a stick, folks. Actually, you could but eventually you'd get arrested, especially if you did it for hours on end.
I'm a pretty mediocre art student. I'm better at painting than drawing, because painting is easier to fudge unless you're a photorealist and I'm, well, yeah. But after the six months from hades (parent seriously ill, friends dying, car being broken into, job continuing its descent into the depths of suckitude, etc.) it's great to just go somewhere, pick up my pencil or my brush, and focus my attention on something other than myself and my woes for two and a half hours. The physical end result is, in a very real sense, irrelevant. When I have the technology I'll post on this blog some of what I've done, mostly to make up for the fact that you will probably never see a picture of me on here. I get a bit squicked out by the thought of people stumbling on this blog, seeing a picture of me, a total stranger and not a great beauty either, and going, Nope, ain't having that. I'd rather be judged on my words, and if you judge me on my art too, I can live with that.
Anyway, especially if you live in our fair city but even if you're just passing through, CAC is worth a stop. And now I need to scrub out my pan...
posted by The Surtsey Islander at 10:30 PM
4 Comments:
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