After nearly five decades of creating art and almost ten years of teaching it, you might think I’ve learnt everything there is to know.
I certainly don’t feel like I have.
My own learning journey hasn’t stopped. I learn something new every day. Sometimes it’s through my own creating, sometimes through experimenting with a new material or idea, and sometimes it’s simply through watching someone else approach a problem completely differently to the way I would.
I don’t think I’ll ever stop learning, and I hope I never do.
Art has a funny way of continuing to teach you, especially when you’re sitting beside someone who is seeing something completely differently from you.
And that’s probably one of the things I love most about teaching. My students don’t just learn from me. I learn from them too. Not necessarily in the ways you might expect.
For example, I don’t think my students have taught me patience. I’ve always been a patient person. I don’t always show it when I’m dealing with other things in life, but when it comes to creating, learning and helping someone work through something, patience has always been part of me.
And I think that’s important.
Students need a teacher, instructor or mentor who is prepared to be patient with them. They need space to learn without feeling pressured to get it right immediately.
Perseverance is a little different.
I’ve learnt how much creativity itself can teach us about perseverance. When you’re experimenting with a medium or working towards an idea you’ve imagined in your head, things don’t always go to plan. You have to keep adjusting, trying something else and sometimes coming back to it another day.
Some students see that as a challenge.
Others become disheartened. And that’s where teaching becomes much more than showing someone how to draw.
You have to know the student in front of you. You have to find that fine line between challenging them and overwhelming them. With younger students and beginners especially, I often break things down into little stepping stones. One goal at a time. If you give someone too much to overcome at once, they can deflate before they’ve had the chance to discover what they’re capable of.
I’ve learnt that perseverance doesn’t look the same for everyone. Sometimes it’s pushing yourself a little further. Sometimes it’s simply coming back next week.
Children have also reminded me of something that adults can sometimes forget. They’re often much kinder to themselves. A child can create something, look at it and think, “I like that.” They don’t necessarily start picking it apart. Adults can be much harder on themselves. We judge, compare and criticise our own work before we’ve even had a chance to enjoy it.
Children can be softer about what they’ve created. I think there’s something we could all learn from that.
Adults have taught me something too. You’re never too old to learn something new.
I’ve watched adults pick up a pencil or paintbrush and learn skills they never thought they’d be able to learn. Sometimes they’ve spent years telling themselves they “can’t draw”, only to discover that with a little practice and encouragement, they can actually do far more than they expected.
My students also keep me on my toes. Children, especially, don’t have quite the same filters we adults have. They’ll sometimes look at something and say exactly what they think. And occasionally they’ll come up with an observation that is so completely left of field that I have to stop and think, “I’ve never looked at it that way before.”
I love that.
It reminds me that there is always another way of seeing something. Students surprise me all the time. I’ve met students who are completely self-taught and have incredible skills. I’ve also met students who struggle with one particular style of drawing, only to give them a subject they’re passionate about and suddenly the work is amazing. Sometimes the subject unlocks something in them that technique alone couldn’t.
That’s another reaon I don’t believe there is one definition of a “good artist.” Visual art is subjective. There isn’t always one right answer. At the end of a piece of artwork, one of the questions I often ask a student is:
“Are you happy with it?” If they are, fantastic. If they’re not, I ask why. Then we can work on it.
Because it’s their artwork. Not mine. It needs to look the way they want it to look.
My job is to help them get there, not to turn their artwork into something I would have created. I think that’s one of the most important things I’ve learnt through teaching. Success isn’t necessarily being the best artist in the room. Success is enjoying the process. It’s sticking with something when it gets difficult. It’s coming back next week. It’s challenging yourself to do something a little better than you did last time.
It’s seeing something that once seemed impossible and thinking, “I might be able to do that.” Sometimes success is simply being proud of what you’ve created. And sometimes it’s just turning up.
I’ve learnt that my students don’t necessarily change the way I understand people. I tend to work from instinct and intuition when I’m teaching. But working with such a wide range of ages, personalities and abilities has certainly helped me refine those instincts.
It’s taught me to look. To listen. To notice. To feel when someone needs encouragement, someone needs to work through it themselves and when they need to be challenged.
And perhaps more than anything, my students have taught me about resilience. Good days. Bad days. Days when the artwork works beautifully. Days when absolutely nothing seems to go right. Turn up anyway. You might be surprised at how the day goes.
When I look around the studio and see everyone creating, learning, talking, laughing and sometimes struggling their way through a piece of artwork, I’m grateful.
Grateful to be here.
Grateful to be part of the process.
Grateful to still be learning after all these years.
Teaching art opens the door to teaching so much more than art. It opens conversations about confidence, resilience, patience, creativity, problem-solving, individuality and believing in yourself.
I’m grateful that I get to teach all of those things too.