I grew to find it was all rather more like learning Maths. I was old enough to realise I was being taught the basics, confident that if I studied hard I would learn the formulas that would one day open the doors to understanding. It was all about building the foundations that would take me to enlightenment.
It didn't take long to move on the science, a religious kind, balancing evidence and the as yet undiscovered. Now for the first time, wiggle room was allowed for a hypothesis to evolve and space made for a range of conclusions. Faith became a logical, rationalised exploration with truths to uncover.
I think that now, I've graduated onto some kind of art course... I've joined a discussion that expands even to the far reaches of what art is valid. I'm intrigued by all the different interpretations of the same piece, Some critics burn with passion about the subject and fear dilution or distraction, they want to teach and protect what they see. Others feel utter apathy, others still see art all around beyond the boundaries of a gallery or what could be taught in a classroom, while some had such a horrible art teacher once that they shudder at the sight of a paintbrush. Some fear their opinions won't count, they've been shouted down in the past or shown up. And there are the people that are utterly ill informed yet seem to be heard loudest.
And what I love is that some things that I looked at a while ago now speak to me when before there was nothing. That sometimes I crave a simple drawing and at other times I want a complex canvas. There's always a new way to see, comfort and questions to find. The discourse with others only shapes and strengthens my own critical thinking, opens my eyes to see more than I could if I were to learn alone.
