In life, we learn many lessons that leave us changed, while others leave us entirely. We can only hope that we clung to the important ones.
I had a drawing teacher in high school whose knowledge flooded my mind and has not abandoned me. When I presented a “finished ” piece of work to Mr. Schetski and announced “I’m finished!” he would always reply, “Are you sure?” I would retreat to my desk, because you are only finished with your work when your work is finished with you.
While I work on illustrations and words for a book I intend to publish, Mr. Schetski’s words haunt me. As I complete a drawing or a typed page, I reflect. “Is this the best I can do?” If not, I begin again. And again. And again.
My illustrations have progressed over time. As a fourth grader, I was so consumed with pulling images from my head, copying and pasting them onto a canvas. I continued to fail, and this was frustrating. Later, I acquired the knowledge that art doesn’t have to be exact. Much later, Mr. Schetski showed me a different approach. Practice.
Struggling through high school with bipolar disorder was difficult, but art has always been part of who I am. My mental illness did not prevent me graduating from high school with a degree in visual art, and a bachelor’s degree in fine art. It has not stolen all of my life, though my back pack was heavier than most. My journey has been arduous, but I have found the right doctors, medications, and support. My practice continues, and my work will never be finished.
–SJB