In the Studio
Life's a curve.
When we were juniors around age 20—when time still felt adolescent and expansive—our painting professor told us a story.
“The work is a U,” he began, pacing around the studio as we sat in a circle of worn easels. “When you start the work, the first few marks on the blank canvas will be beautiful. Almost perfect. You might even think you are a genius, that you are nearly done with the work.”
He grinned, pausing as if to accept questions.
“But you are not,” he spun around to face the other side of the circle, the tail on his trench coat flying like a ring leader’s, “You are at the top of the U. When you continue, the work will go through a phase so frustrating, so ugly, so unlike the idea you had in your head, that you will be tempted to stop.”
The studio was an old, converted church with a high, domed ceiling and a stained glass sunlight above the rafters. The moment didn’t register as spiritual until years later when my brain would bring up that day from time to time. I can still smell the warm earthiness of the linseed oil that was like a human presence in that room. Like most core memories, I couldn’t recall when or why the moment had become important, just that it had.
“Do not stop,” our professor paused, letting this line echo on the stone floors.
“The work is at the curve of the U,” his right hand was drawing an invisible ‘u’ in the air. I felt us all watching it, following the unseen outline.
“The curve is where your work exists for most of the time you are creating it. But if you keep going, you’ll slowly—and then suddenly—realize that it is on top again.”
The professor stopped gesturing his long fingers and smoothed his white hair into place. “This is when the work is ready,” he said finally.
He didn’t define what ready meant. Ready to show. Ready to make you somebody. Ready to prime it white and start again.
“Okay then,” he clapped his hands together casually, “Let’s get started.” ∎
I’m Emily Parsons and this is a newsletter with short stories—some so brief, I like to call them “sketches.” When I’m not writing these, I am a full time designer and artist in Brooklyn, New York.
Please feel free to reply to this email, I would love to meet you and hear your thoughts!