Now You See It, Now You Don’t

*Stories that did not make it into My List, My Rules: The Year a Checklist Changed My Life

*Goal #67 may be inaccurate as far as numbers of my list go. If so I’ll fix that later.

Goal #67
Make a Drawing While Blindfolded

In all my years of teaching, I’ve had a lot of unique students. I’ve also had a lot of cookie-cutter kids — you know, the ones who take art for the easy credit or because they don’t like academics full of cranial effort. I accept them all and hope that, in my hour a day over the course of a semester, I can change their minds just a little about something, or help them see the world in a slightly different way. After all, a shift in perception is definitely a miracle — thank you, Marianne Williamson.

I taught a lovely, hardworking boy in his senior year who was not a typical teen. He lived on a farm outside of town with his parents and rode the bus to school every day. He never complained about his life or about what he had or didn’t have. He was a big kid — very tall and solid — and wore sweats and what looked like snowmobile boots through most of the winter. He didn’t stand out in a crowd by appearance. He blended in. But his quiet demeanor, so different from every other vibrating teen, accidentally drew my attention in the best of ways.

Once, he tried to use up an entire pencil in a single drawing. What a challenge that was. He always approached me with manners and kindness, and although I knew very little about his life, I liked him simply for what I observed in class. His name was Jayden. He wasn’t interested in being the cool kid or the nerdy kid. He was just interested in being a good kid. It was obvious.

Jayden constantly challenged himself — and sometimes he challenged my skills, maybe for confirmation. He asked me to try using a pencil until there was nothing left. I tried. I didn’t have the patience he did. Nor did I have the time. He often asked me questions about art projects I was working on.

As I was creating the list for that year’s birthday celebration, Jayden came up to me while I was sitting at my desk in the fishbowl — the glass office in the middle of the art room where my teacher desk lived. He plunked himself down in the chair where students often sat to hang out or visit.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m trying to make a list.”

“For what?”

“For me.”

“For what?” he asked again. I giggled.

I knew this kid needed specifics. He was a details kind of fellow.

“Well, I’m trying to come up with a list of 101 things to do this year. I’m open to almost anything.” I paused. “Do you have any ideas?”

I was a firm believer in learning from my students. In fact, I have a long list of learnings from the many young people I’ve taught over the years.

“Yes,” he said. “Draw a picture blindfolded.” There was no hesitation. Sorry. What?

“Blindfolded — blindfolded?” I confirmed. Isn’t drawing about seeing?

“Yes. I think it could be sort of cool. You’re a good artist, Ms., but you use your eyes. What if you didn’t use your eyes? How would your pictures come out then?”

So he did mean blindfolded — blindfolded. What an interesting idea.

“You always say that we have to be willing to make ugly art in order to make good art,” he added.

I nodded. I did say that — often. The young man was listening.

“Yes, Jayden, I sure do say that.” I turned back to my computer.
“I’m adding it. Draw a picture blindfolded. What’s the worst that’s going to happen? I’ll make some ugly art. You’ll laugh. I’ll laugh. It will be awesome.”

Jayden smiled. He was pleased that I accepted his idea. It was a good idea. It was also an opportunity to show the class that I was willing to push my boundaries too. And honestly, I was curious about what kind of visual product I’d come up with while blindfolded.

A few days into my list of 101 things, I called Jayden into the fishbowl. I took out a sketchbook and a pencil and handed him my camera. Another student blindfolded me at my desk. Once the blindfold was on, Jayden placed the sketchbook in front of me. I could feel the turn of the pages. I asked him to hand me the pencil. He carefully placed it in my hand. I felt for the sharpened end and giggled nervously.

Why was I nervous? Lack of control? Trust? Both? Yep. Both.

I took a few moments to consider the edges of the paper. I wanted to be thoughtful with my lines. I pictured the entire desk in my mind’s eye, and once the image felt solid in my imagination, I began to move my pencil.

I didn’t draw for very long — just long enough to think I might have created something usable someday, and long enough for Jayden to document the goal.

I put the pencil down.

“I think I’m done,” I announced.

I reached up and untied the blindfold. Several students were watching through the glass. I had a bigger audience than when I started. I didn’t mind. It was a chance for them to see their teacher push her comfort zone.

“I got some pictures,” Jayden announced as he set the camera down.

I looked at my creation. I had drawn a landscape — rolling hills, a prairie, a large moon floating in the sky. It was simple, but nice. The lines traced over themselves in places, creating a comforting rhythm of movement. I was pleased.

“Ms. C., that’s pretty good,” Jayden said.

I smiled. “Thanks.”

“Now you should paint something blindfolded.”

Of course I should… NOT.

“Easy, tiger. Maybe the next list.” I scooted the students back to their desks. “There’s no excuse now for you not to work. Your kooky teacher just did a drawing blindfolded.”

“But did you have one hand tied behind your back?” shouted a smart-ass from the back of the room.

I laughed and shook my head. A solid no.

“It doesn’t mean I won’t. Now get to work.”

Jayden and I smiled at each other. He returned to his project and worked diligently until the bell rang. I sat in the quiet of my classroom, looking at the drawing executed in darkness, and considered all the ways that seeing occurs. That even with our eyes closed, we still have the ability to see.

Maybe with our eyes closed, we can see more than we think. Maybe our mind’s eye is more powerful than our actual vision. Maybe our eyes inhibit us in some way.

It was all food for thought.

I did end up using the sketch for a future painting — just definitely not blindfolded. My exercise was complete.

As always, thank you for reading, Lovelies