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At primary school, art was compulsory yet one of the most anticipated lessons, far more interesting than science or geography. It was in that small room that I learnt how to sew, plait, mix primary colours – all life lessons, but most importantly, how fun it was to peel dried PVA glue off your hands. Proudly carrying home my latest creation, whether it be a tissue paper hot air balloon or an Anglo-Saxon purse, my mother would smile wearily and place it on top of the mantelpiece, for guests to peer at and puzzle over. It was one of these creations, a clay Roman style lamp, that I was looking at the other day and wondering when the passion for making things faded.
Perhaps it is the gradual realisation as you get older that it is not really a hot air balloon in your school bag. It is a collection of cardboard and tissue paper and string, stuck together with peeling glue and extremely vulnerable to puncture, as you try and protect it on the school bus. If I were to attempt to make something now, for instance a bracelet, having no idea of any proper technique or style, it would look juvenile and unprofessional. As a student, lack of materials is a problem as well. This year I carried on the tradition of making a handmade card for my friend’s birthday, yet I was saddened and slightly embarrassed that it was made from two old notebook covers, stapled together. It looked like a card that a tramp had made.
As a self-confessed phobic of any kind of practical activity, I can’t imagine ever being able to make something beautiful and impressive, like many of my arty friends who put me to shame with personalised cutlery and award-winning photography. The disparity between the enthusiasm of a child for arts and crafts and the apathy of an adult left me pondering for a while, but then I realised that it is not us that changes, but the nature of our art. I may not remember how to make an origami swan, but I can construct a sentence that leaves me smiling in satisfaction. Adults use art all the time, and not just in the obvious profession of artist. Designing a car, decorating a cake, all these things use art and we don’t realise.
So mourn not, supposedly ‘non-arty’ people, for no-one fits that description. We can’t all be Neil Buchanan with his deft hands and cheesy smile, but whatever your talent, art is there somewhere.
http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/2044591/diy_hot_air_balloon_toy.html
I once saw a particular photograph of Neil Buchanan which prevented me from sleeping - his gray-blue eyes haunted me for some time after. True story.
Can't watch it again since the head bears an uncomfortably striking resemblance to Jordan's soon-to-be-ex-husband Alex Reid.
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