April 30, 2017

Overload

“Overload” was my first drawing related to the world of insects.

At the time, my husband was a fairly new beekeeper, and he was looking for something to donate to the auction at his first beekeeper’s convention.

For some reason – who knows why – I offered to draw a picture of bees.

Since that was the first of many drawings, I should have documented my thoughts back then in anticipation of some future grandchild’s family history project.

But sadly, I was content with being newly retired at that time and was more concerned with what coffee grinder I was going to buy than preserving history. My retirement goal was to read the newspaper each morning – feet up, cat on lap – a cup of fresh ground coffee in my hand. With cream.

Offering to draw a bee picture, seriously, was an odd thing for me to do, as I had no fine arts background and wasn’t looking for a hobby. All of my creativity, for 35 years, had been concentrated on words, specifically newspaper words, and I had never considered “artist” as a retirement path.

Thinking back, though, I should have had a clue. Since childhood, I have had an ongoing fascination with, and love of, color.

As a child of a single mother who raised four kids on a clerical salary, one of my favorite times of year was the Fall, when I would get a new box of crayons for school. The smell, the lovely points … the brilliance of those wax sticks …

I never did get a box larger than 24 crayons until I was able to buy my own. But even after the points dulled and the beautiful sticks became stubs, I was still happy to be their owner.

When younger, I had no opportunity for art lessons, but I must have been interested, as I signed up for art class in high school. Sadly, my confidence was quickly crushed after we were instructed to draw anything we wished, then my fantastical drawings were deemed unsatisfactory by the teacher.

Do you know the comedian named Gallagher? I remember hearing him recite a list of things with no answer. Such as: “Where does a contractor go when the job is half done?” He also said that he was once asked for his opinion – and was then told that his opinion was wrong.

Well, that’s what art class was like. My freestyle drawings were wrong. I got a C- in that class because I wasn’t willing (or able, maybe) to draw trees in a more realistic style, so I just dropped art, as “Miss Persnickety” was the only drawing teacher.

Then I turned to the school newspaper – I was a fair writer, and I soon realized that the local newspaper paid money to people who could write. Career choice made. Off to college I went.

Fast forward a big chunk of lifetime, and I was drawing “Overload” – not excited about it – but so happy to have in my hand a box of beautiful, sharpened, colored pencils. I found I liked them better than crayons because their sharp points were more versatile – you could get color into tight spaces.

Plus, the names of the pencil colors – like “Limepeel” and “Artichoke” – appealed to my writing side. Interestingly, there were a few names reminiscent of my old Crayolas: like “red violet blue” and “blue violet red”? I’m guessing the color-namer had a meltdown one day.

Once done, the finished drawing, “Overload,” couldn’t have been more traditional: two worker bees on a lavender thistle, pollen sacs full, indicating they probably would soon head back to the hive. Even the fence and the leaves were somewhat normal.

Miss Persnickety would have given me a “B” for this drawing. I gave myself a “B” for “Bored.”

I signed it, framed it, and gave it to my mother, who actually gave it back a year later. There’s a confidence builder.

But I never looked back on that bucolic bee drawing as I began to formulate ideas for a picture I would be happier to donate to the bee convention auction: colorful, detailed, and absolutely absurd. Stay tuned …

* Mom read this and said she did not give “Overload” back because she didn’t like the picture. She said she gave it back when she found something she liked better. OK then …