Our high school art teacher had assigned us to create a piece using the stippling technique. With fine-point black pens, we applied dots in varying densities to our drawings. I chose to draw a humpback whale. I dotted the white paper thousands of times, creating each shadow and crevice with care.
After hours of work, I handed my whale picture to my art teacher, certain that she would be impressed with the result. She glanced over it, handed it back to me, and said, “You can do a lot better.”
Surprised, I went back to my desk. Though my whale looked pretty good to me, I added more dots. I worked on it for several days of art class. Again, I gave it to my teacher. Again it was returned. “Keep working on it.”
My hand and wrist ached, and I had visions of my sadistic teacher being eaten by the whale. I was tired of this stupid project. I added more and more dots until I couldn’t find any more white space to fill. Finally, I submitted it again to the teacher, hoping and praying it would be acceptable. She examined it, and nodded at me.
Walking out of class that day, I felt an immense satisfaction at an arduous job completed. Later, that stippled whale hung on my bedroom wall. Every time I looked at it, I was reminded of the persistence that was birthed in me through art, and how a few more dots can make a good drawing even better.
After hours of work, I handed my whale picture to my art teacher, certain that she would be impressed with the result. She glanced over it, handed it back to me, and said, “You can do a lot better.”
Surprised, I went back to my desk. Though my whale looked pretty good to me, I added more dots. I worked on it for several days of art class. Again, I gave it to my teacher. Again it was returned. “Keep working on it.”
My hand and wrist ached, and I had visions of my sadistic teacher being eaten by the whale. I was tired of this stupid project. I added more and more dots until I couldn’t find any more white space to fill. Finally, I submitted it again to the teacher, hoping and praying it would be acceptable. She examined it, and nodded at me.
Walking out of class that day, I felt an immense satisfaction at an arduous job completed. Later, that stippled whale hung on my bedroom wall. Every time I looked at it, I was reminded of the persistence that was birthed in me through art, and how a few more dots can make a good drawing even better.
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