Shamefaced Adult

Last night, I went to my step-daughter's high school for her art show. She has taken art for the past three years, and has shown some talent in the few things she's shown us.

I was blown away by the sheer magnitude of the show. Twenty-two seventeen-year-old kids displaying massive pieces throughout a large room. Each one had a brief one or two page statement which tried to explain the thrust and theme of their work. It was impressive, even without taking into consideration the fact that some of the works displayed there had been done when they were as young as fifteen years old.

A few of the kids there had some pieces that were spectacular. Surprising especially because I've had some of these kids in my home since their pre-teen years, and have watched them through the years goof around and act silly. Who would have thought they could be so incredibly talented? Even more impressive was how brave and open they were about how they viewed themselves within the world. I was amazed at their ability to reach within themselves and pull out what they did.

I had to stop and consider what I was like at that age. Certainly, I felt a lot of what these kids were able to vocalise within their statements and bring forward within their given media, but I don't think I was ever able to sum it up, never mind factoring in the lack of talent aspect. How could such young kids know themselves so well? Feel confident enough to shout it out to the world? Here I am, more than twice their age and I still lack the ability to do what they did.

I tried to speak with each of the artists to ask them about their pieces, about their future plans, and to praise them for their talent. They were all quite nonchalant about what they had produced. The most talented of the bunch, who had painted several huge canvasses of heart wrenching images in the most breathtaking manner, advised me that she was going to go into the sciences, but that perhaps she might keep art as a hobby. I wanted to shake her and let her know how her talent was a rare gift that needed to be nurtured. Instead, I laughed and told her how ironic it was that I had studied sciences and fancied med school because I lacked any artistic ability.

I couldn't help but wonder if maybe I was reading more into these pieces than what they were: an assignment to fulfill a school requirement. Maybe they really didn't put their heart and soul into their paintings and sculptures. Maybe they were all bullshit. Maybe I was just projecting. In any event, is it petty for a middle-aged woman to feel jealous of adolescents who have creative ability?