When I finished school one of the things I was most looking forward to was never having to go to an art lesson ever again. To me finishing school meant finishing 2 years of the stress, tears and frustration that accompanied A level art. It would mean - shock horror - FREE TIME, and no more panics about how many pages I had or hadn't done in my sketchbook.
Yet there is now an unnerving emptiness in my life. Yesterday I was enjoying the new found freedom that finishing school and finishing exams has brought to my life. And guess what I did? I delved into the drawer I had vowed never to open again and drew out paintbrushes and my sewing kit. I can hardly believe it. I miss art.
I miss having paint flecks permanently decorating my nails, I miss the feel of a brand new sketchbook, I miss sewing. I never thought it would happen.
Anyway, in a moment of nostalgia I found these photos on my computer of some of my art work over the past 2 years. It is safe to say I was never destined to be an artist, but nonetheless I am proud of some of my work - be it my favourite poem painstakingly hand-stitched onto a canvas or a dress made from old photos and postcards - not because they're particularly good, but because I had a go and enjoyed making them. And having a go and enjoying it is one of life's mantras that I think is worth following with gusto.
Libby
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