Sometime
during the past Winter—even before the COVID-19 crisis erupted and trapped us
all in our houses—I reached the conclusion that I needed a hobby of some
kind. I had trouble figuring out just what that would entail, however, due to
several factors. First of all, I am not blessed with any artistic talent. Whatsoever.
Secondly, I don’t have the desire to make…stuff…just for the sake of occupying
my time. In other words, unless I could identify a way to turn it into at least
a marginally productive endeavor (like my friend who crochets absolutely
adorable wee critter-themed hats for babies!) I wasn’t interested. All of this
to say: I was stuck without a brilliant idea.
And then the
stupid Coronavirus happened, and all of that went right out the window as I changed
my standards to “I want something to focus on besides the current state of the
world, that might bring me a smidgen of joy during these dark times.”
Now, here’s where my memory gets a bit fuzzy, because I don’t honestly recall
HOW I settled on the project I chose. Did I begin perusing craft websites
first for inspiration? Or did the idea of painting occur to me out of the
blue for some reason?
We’ll probably
never know, friends. But—given the aforementioned “extreme lack of intrinsic
ability”--I very realistically chose to attempt a format that A) wouldn’t tax
my meager skills; B) would require a fair amount of time and attention to
complete; and C) would hopefully result in an attractive final product. In
short, a paint-by-numbers kit seemed the perfect outlet for my unfulfilled,
pandemic-fueled creative urges.
Thus I found
myself scrolling through the available offerings, looking for something at the
intersection of doable and not too frustrating. Fortunately, there
were ratings, so I quickly filtered out anything not classified as “Easy”,
which considerably narrowed the field. After that it didn’t take long at all to
settle on a beachy landscape, since that pretty much encapsulates my
notion of a Happy Place.
When my
purchase arrived on the doorstep, I eagerly dug into the box, admiring the
array of colors (Twenty. Five.), the delicate brushes, the
enticing blank canvas just begging me to apply the vibrant tints. And
then I leaned down and peered more closely…at the practically invisible
numbers…printed inside the oh-so-faint lines…all crowded together
in a dizzying hodgepodge of “What the HELL have I gotten myself into with
this?” I mean, the very first thing I had to do before even dunking a brush one
of the pigments was to pull out a magnifying glass so I had even a
snowball’s chance of putting things in the (reasonably) right place, and/or
staying (more or less) within the boundaries.
And then,
after I took a moment to snort in disbelief, and marvel at the ridiculous enterprise
ahead of me (“Easy” my you-know-what, MICHAEL…), I gave it my best “Eh,
whattya gonna do?” shrug, picked a spot to start, and dove into the fray. Now,
given my well-documented penchant for order and organization, it
should come as no surprise that my eyes immediately gravitated first toward the
top left corner, an obvious choice for where to kick off all the
art-making…hoopla and whatnot.
As it turned
out, this proved to be an auspicious decision, because I quickly recognized
just how…demanding…and challenging…my new leisure-time
undertaking would be. The process became clear very early on: employ magnifier
to check the minuscule markings, dip the tiniest brush, and ever-so-carefully dab
the canvas—doing my best to respect the separation of sections and not obscure
parts that should receive another shade entirely.
Although I
realize that it sounds…tedious…I was astonished at how, each time I sat
down to tackle another part, I found it both intensely absorbing… and
yet somehow soothing as well. And I wish now that I’d clocked
just how much actual time I spent working on it, because I also noticed
that literally HOURS would pass while I was deep in the throes of indulging my super-secret…inner
Monet…or what have you.
As the
sessions piled up—because I discovered that I wanted to return to it every day—I
also was struck by a few revelations of a personal nature…such as the fact that
this particular activity caused some facets of my character to clash
with one another. For example, my overriding impatience and constant
desire to “hurry up” vs. being forced by the nature of the task to slow
down, get into a groove, and take my time. Or having to
accept, make peace with—and eventually even learn to embrace—imperfection
as an intrinsic part of something like this…all of which flies in the face of
one of the hallmarks of my personality…that would be the deeply
ingrained Type-A tendencies that typically rule my life, for better or
worse. “Do your best, fix mistakes if possible, then let it go and move on”
became my mantra…at least temporarily. (No promises on whether I can make it
stick long-term, but I’ll give it a shot!)
So, all of
this brings up the question: did this experimental foray into an uncharted
pastime unlock fresh depths of heretofore unknown patience and perseverance--or
was I just too dang pigheaded to allow myself to give up? Eh, maybe a
touch of both? All I can tell you for sure is that I took soooo much pride
in seeing the progress as areas got filled in and the picture took shape, even
though I was literally rendering someone else’s vision, with the help of
pre-selected colors!
Overall, I
found my initiation into the paint-by-number realm to be eminently satisfying…if
also a tad grueling! Yet the eyestrain and neck kinks paled in
comparison to the feeling when my efforts matched up to the printed picture
of what the finished scene was supposed to look like. And even in the
brief moments when it felt like a grind to keep plugging away at a particularly
fussy part… I couldn’t have predicted how much I would enjoy it.
To sum up: taking
something sort of chaotic and transforming it into an object of beauty,
neatness, and perhaps most of all, joyful hues proved to be its own
intoxicating reward! Hmm, note to self when searching for future entertainment
of this nature: seek the rainbow! (Whatever that means…to be
determined…look out, Michael, I’m coming back for you!)
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