When he’s erased our collective defilement, he writes in big letters on the board,Draw, Antonio, draw.
“Does anyone know who this quote is attributed to?” he asks.
“The one,” Esther says, snapping her fingers. “The one guy. The famous guy.”
“Yes, he was very famous,” Daniel prompts.
“This guy,” Esther says, and does a saucy little pose.
“TheDavidpose! So, yes! You are correct, this was said by Michelangelo.”
“Nice, Esther!” I go up for the high five and she wins my heart for life by kissing her own palm before high-fiving me back.
“Okay. So this is the first half of a quote that Michelangelo said to his apprentice, Antonio. Does anyone know the second half of this quote?”
A chair scoots out and Em stands up. She’s almost six feet tall, by the way. Today she’s wearing wide-legged jeans with ahand-embroidered orca whale on them and a tight black tee. “Draw, Antonio, draw, Antonio,” she quotes, her voice so sure I feel like I’m listening to someone sing. “Draw, and don’t waste time.”
She sits back down and all of us, to a T, applaud.
“Yes.” Daniel points at her. “He tells him to draw three times in the span of two sentences. Seven, eight,ninewords total and three of them are the command to draw.” He turns to the board and studies it, lost in thought, his head cocked to one side. “ ‘And don’t waste time’…as if…as if all the time in Antonio’s life spentnotdrawing is a waste.”
“Harsh,” says Shan.
“Okay, right. So, maybe it’s not every second of Antonio’s life that’s a waste.” Daniel is gathering us around, pulling out a chair for Esther, moving an easel so that Reggie can see him.
“Let’s picture it. Realistically. Michelangelo is probably not shouting this out a window to Antonio while Antonio is playing basketball. No.Reallypicture it. Michelangelo is almost certainly saying this to Antonio while Antonio is about to draw…but hesitating. While Antonio is deliberating over whether to start at the torso or the feet. While he’s remembering his last drawing that didn’t go so well. While he’s telling himself he’s no good. Or that he has to be better.”
I gulp a little, my eyes stinging, yet again, in this classroom.
“Michelangelo,” Daniel continues, “master that he is, already knows the secret. The only time you ever get better at drawing iswhile you’re drawing.He knows that hesitating is nothing more than, I don’t know, preemptive lamenting! And Michelangelo knows that attempts areit.The whole point. Sacred. Thereisno lamentable attempt!”
He’s pacing in a large oval now, his hands behind his back. We’re a group of prairie dogs, all pivoting our heads in unison to watch him.
“I love when he’s like this,” Penny says, and I look back to see their elbow resting on Lauro’s shoulder. Both of them smiling affectionately at Daniel as he corrals his thoughts.
“Which!” Daniel says triumphantly, when he’s gotten a hold of his thought. “Leads me to the concept of attempts. The only reason we hesitate to draw is the fear of failure. So…let’s start there. Drawing shows you, graphically, all that you don’t understand. This is why artists study anatomy. If, when you’re drawing Pavel’s leg, you don’t understand where the shin bone connects to the ankle bone, and you draw it lining the outside of his leg instead of the inward slant, you’re going to end up with ogre legs in your drawing. Which is fine. It’sfineto draw ogre legs. Awkward drawings are wonderful!”
He’s gesticulating purposefully and staring into nothing.
“They’re a formulation of thought. Anattempt.And that is what is so wonderful about drawing. Itisthought. It’s not Tetris. It’s not autopilot. It’s an active playtime, between what you already understand and what you’re learning in the moment. And most importantly what you’reseeing.Draw, Antonio, draw! Draw what you see and show yourself what you don’t understand yet! What a gift! Every drawing a road map to what you need to learn? Is there anything else in life that gives so generously? Don’t waste time! If we can’t even put pencil to paper, then what are we doing here? Go, go knit a sweater. Eat pizza! Live and don’t waste time! But if you are here, if you have the pencil in your fingers and Pavel on the stand…”
Draw and don’t waste time.
“Whoa, you’re home early,” Vin says with a start as I bang through the front door and throw my bag on the ground. “I thought you had art class?”
“I did! I ran home after!”
“Wow. Are you all right? You’re looking a little…”
“I’m not all right! I’m wasting time!” Daniel has exposed a glaring passiveness in me. I’ve been sitting on a folding chair and watching my life slip past me. It’s time I jump on a motorcycle and chase it down.
“You’re late for something?”
“No! Yes! I have to do something.” I open up my and Vin’s laptop and navigate to NYC Craigslist. After Daniel’s lecture, Pavel got back on the model stand and I locked in like I never had before. My drawings were not drastically different than the ones I’d made earlier in class, with one main exception: I did not hesitate. I was calm and happy just trying.
So now? Now, I’m going to find someone else to draw naked if it’s the last thing I do. I’ve never been so motivated to get better at something in my life. Drawing is leading me toward something. It’s so close I can taste it.
Vin is drifting toward my back. I feel his eyes flick to the computer screen and away. And then back. He steps into my eyeline and lifts one eyebrow. “You’re taking out a Craigslist ad?”
