Sharz Art Design Blog

When I look around a classroom, I’m not hoping to see thirty identical artworks lined up at the end of the lesson.

I’m hoping to see thirty different interpretations. Thirty different ideas. Thirty different personalities shining through the page. In fact, if every student in a class produces exactly the same artwork, I feel like I’ve failed them a little.

That might sound strange coming from an art teacher, but art is personal. It’s one person’s interpretation of the world around them.  

Over the years, I’ve realised that not every student learns, thinks or creates in the same way.  That’s probably why I’ve always been drawn to approaches that leave room for individual interpretation and personal choice.

There are times when following a series of steps can be helpful, especially when learning a new skill. But I’ve always believed there should also be space for students to make the work their own. 

The same subject, the same materials and the same lesson can produce completely different results depending on who’s holding the pencil or paintbrush. And that’s exactly how I think it should be.

I believe creativity starts to disappear when there is only one “correct” answer. Art isn’t maths. There isn’t always a right or wrong. There are choices. Lots of them!

When I’m working with students, I spend a lot of time asking questions rather than giving answers.

• “What do you think would happen if you made that darker?” 
• “Would you like this area to stand out more?”
• “How could you show more movement here?”
• “What are you trying to say with this piece?”

Sometimes students want direct guidance, and that’s absolutely fine and encourage when the student is still skill building. Teaching skills and techniques is a big part of what I do. But I also want students to learn how to make their own creative decisions, when they are ready.

Because at the end of the day, it’s their artwork. Not mine. I never want a student to feel like they are creating my vision. I want them to develop their own. That’s where confidence grows. That’s where creativity grows. And that’s where artistic style begins to emerge. 

One of my favourite things is watching students who have been with me for a few years start to develop their own visual voice. You can often recognise their work before you even see their name on it.

Some love detail. Some love bold colour. Some are naturally expressive. Some are highly realistic. Some are meticulous planners. Others are fearless experimenters. There isn’t a right way. There never was.

Part of my role as a teacher is helping students discover what excites them creatively rather than telling them what they should like. I think that’s why I often give feedback in the form of options.

Instead of saying, “Do this.”  I’ll often say, “You could try this…” or “What would happen if…”

That approach gives students ownership. It encourages them to think. To experiment. To make decisions.

And sometimes to surprise themselves. For me, teaching art has never been about creating perfect artists. It’s about helping people become confident creators. People who trust their ideas. People who aren’t afraid to take risks. People who understand that their perspective matters. Because the world doesn’t need another hundred artists producing exactly the same thing.

What makes art interesting is the person behind it.

And helping students discover that is probably my favourite part of teaching.

Lately, I’ve been reminded just how important it is to keep my own cup full. 

It’s one of those sayings that gets thrown around a lot, but the busier I am, the more I realise how true it is.

You can’t keep giving from an empty cup.  You can try. Most of us do.  We keep saying yes. We keep helping. We keep working. We keep showing up for everyone else. We convince ourselves we’ll rest later.

Eventually though, the signs start appearing.

For me, it’s usually impatience first. Then I become a bit cranky. Little things annoy me more than they should. I get tired. My motivation disappears. The things I normally enjoy start feeling like chores.  It’s not because I don’t love what I do. It’s because I’ve spent too long pouring into everyone else’s cup and forgotten to top up my own.

As someone who teaches, creates, runs a business and generally likes helping people, I can be very good at giving. Not always so good at stopping.

The thing is, I know exactly what fills my cup. It’s not expensive holidays. It’s not fancy restaurants. It’s actually very simple things. 

• Creating art.
• Reading a good book.
• Binge-watching a series that completely switches my brain off.
• Having a sleep when I’m tired.
• Sitting quietly and doing absolutely nothing productive.

Sometimes I think we underestimate the value of zoning out. We’re often told we should always be achieving something, improving something or working towards something. But sometimes what we really need is to stop. To rest. To breathe. To simply exist for a while. 

For me, though, art is the big one.  Creating has always been the thing that brings me back to myself.

When I’m drawing, painting or experimenting with ideas, my mind settles. The noise quietens down. Problems seem smaller. My perspective shifts.  It’s not that art magically fixes everything. It just helps me find my balance again.  

The challenge is that when life gets busy, creating is often the first thing I push aside. Which is completely backwards because it’s also the thing that helps me cope with being busy. 

Lately I’ve realised my own cup is hovering somewhere between “running low” and “dangerously close to empty.”

I’ve been doing a lot of giving. A lot of teaching. A lot of planning. A lot of helping. And not nearly enough creating. So it’s time.

Time to make space for my own art again. Time to sit down with ideas that have been floating around in my head. Time to make things simply because I want to.

That decision has also led me to revisit something that’s very close to my heart: Cormack Creations.

Cormack Creations is my personal creative space. It’s where I can explore my own artwork without lesson plans, deadlines or expectations. It’s a place for experimentation, curiosity and creating simply for the joy of creating.

In many ways, Cormack Creations is my cup-filling project. A reminder that artists need to create too. Not because it’s productive. Not because it’s useful. 

But because it feeds the soul.

So if you’ve been feeling tired, grumpy, overwhelmed or a little unlike yourself lately, maybe it’s worth asking a simple question:

What fills your cup?

And when was the last time you gave yourself permission to do it?