American Stick Figure Dreams

As I worked my way up the wooden stairs of a large conference style university classroom, I wondered what the first day of my sophomore art class would be like.  Having never shown even the tiniest amount of artistic skill, I imagined a semester filled with very disappointing stick figures drawn upon cotton pulp sketching paper.  I also imagined a very stuffy & pristine art instructor who would most likely not be amused with my lack of skill nor my matching lack of enthusiasm for their class.


 When he entered the room I thought he must be an older student returning to college. Lazy movements paired up with faded jeans & plastic flip flops... he wore a vintage Wimpy's Hamburger T-shirt & had hair much longer than the usual conservative nape neck cuts of this Texas college town.  As he placed two large photo placards onto awaiting tripod stands, I suddenly realized this was not a student but rather my new instructor.  Tall & seemingly friendly I watched him greet the last few late entrants into the classroom.   I turned my attention to the photos & noticed one was an absolutely beautiful & extravagant beach house.  A modern home built right upon the sand with lush greenery & exotic flowers covering walkways around a circular drive, complete with a breathtaking view.  The next tripod held a placard of a fancy red convertible sports car.  So shiny & perfect these photographs; I immediately wondered if he was about to engage us with his photography skill or maybe teach us the art of film development on our first day.

  He  pointed to the photographs & said, "Mine!"   What? I thought.  Oh no not THAT guy.  Seriously?  Our new art teacher was going to bait us with his riches?    WOW us with his wealth?  He continued, "WAS mine, anyway, You guys impressed yet?"  As a few guys in the room said "Yeah man you own a Maserati?"  He answered,  "Yep.  Well, I did anyway. This was my Malibu home & this was my Malibu Maserati. I could show you my beautiful blonde Malibu girlfriend, but she left me when I moved out of the house"  Laughter broke out across the room.

 He had no more than said those very words than he began to RIP the huge Malibu House photograph in half. Straight down the middle.  A collective gasp across the room in perfect unison with the exposing of another photograph directly beneath. This photograph was of a tiny brick apartment. A dwelling with small windows & zero fanfare.  He then turned to the Maserati photo Riiiip! Same thing only this photo was now opened down the middle to reveal a 1960's Volkswagon Beetle. A little beat up bug, rusty with fuzzy dice in the mirror & a luggage rack on top.  As the entire class began to giggle, he said, "This is the first art exhibit of your new art class & it is entitled "MY American Dream please take notes. You will be tested."

He went on to tell us about his modest beginnings in the art world of Los Angeles & how his early paintings had gained him much notoriety & press in the media.  As his fame grew, his expertise became a sought after commodity within the high society art world.  After a short year of exhibits around the world he had somehow fallen into an art dealership/broker style position.  Successfully anticipating market trends & procuring some rather earth shattering financial success for one of the top art galleries in the world had made him rich.  Yep, our current art teacher in the plastic shoes had been a teenage art prodigy who became a millionaire at the ripe old age of 22. 

   "Mine" he said pointing to the VW bug & the tiny apartment pic.  "All mine, All I need.  All I ever wanted"  He went on to say , "The world is full of doctors who desperately want to be astronauts & pilots who dream of becoming chefs.  Teachers who fantasize about being firefighters & policemen who want to be opera singers. Millionaire art dealers who just want to be art instructors. It's not just about waiters who dream of becoming actors (although they exist too) We sell ourselves short by buying into an American Dream that is not our own."   
"You may have thought you were signing up for an art class, but this class is going to be about stopping the madness & finding your true passion. There are MANY talents & joys inside of you that have zero to do with a perceived materialistic American Dream.  I'm here to tell you that even a Malibu mansion won't bring you happiness if you don't know who you are..."


And the last words he said during that lecture I will never forget:
 " I don't care if you leave this semester drawing stick figures, as long as they're yours & you like 'em & they're doing exactly what you want them to do? Then you'll obtain an A"


& I did  :)


Hepburn Hugs & American Stick Figure Dreams
xoxo
Birdee Bow