Draw What you See

Not what you think

This morning, I woke up, walked outside and looked up. 

Literally.

The sun was just rising, and as I watched the clouds sweep across the sky, I was struck by their beauty. I looked beyond them as clouds and saw that silvery bright shimmery glow that combines grey, purple, yellow, and colors and textures I don’t have names for. I found myself wondering, “If I were to paint the clouds, where would I start?” What colors would I choose? How would I use the paper and the paint to recreate the detail my eyes see? Some artists capture this beautifully. You can look at their creation and can feel the depth of what they have seen - the colors, shading, glow, textures. All of it is there - captured with paint, pencil, charcoal or pen in a way that replicates nature.  

Artistically, I struggle with this. I can see it when I look up, but I can’t seem to translate what I see to paper. My brain gets in the way. I think of how it “should” look instead of how it does look. 

My husband took a sketching class once where they were practicing still life drawings, and the teacher counseled, “Draw what you see, not what your brain tells you to see.” He was drawing an orange and trying to get the perspective and shadows right. If I draw an orange, I think too much about what an orange should look like…round and orange. When you draw what you see, you might not end up drawing something round, you might end up using brown and yellow and blue instead of orange to get the shadows and highlights to look how they appear. 

I thought about this advice as I looked up at the clouds. This idea of seeing what is truly there, rather than what we expect or assume, extends beyond art, and while there are many parallels to make, my mind went straight to parenting. 

I’ve been frustrated with some of my recent interactions with my youngest son. He has moments of strong negativity and disrespect that are quite triggering for me. I am not my best as I react to him. I also know that his expressions come from a place that I am not fully understanding - fear, anxiety, insecurity? But I haven’t been able to ask the right questions to gain access to what this is. 

This morning’s clouds felt revelatory for me. I realized that I often treat my kids and parent based on what I think I should do or what I want to see, not on what I actually see. I can let my own perception get in the way of seeing what is in front of me. I see clouds instead of wispy streaks of moisture with grey undersides and glistening yellow tops. This week, my 7-year old took off those glasses for me and showed me some of what I have been missing. 

Three times in the past week, he’s used the word “belong” to talk about how something, someone or a situation made him feel. This felt big. Usually when I ask questions about his feelings, I am met with frustration and lots of, “I don’t know what you mean!” But for him to use the word “belong” felt important, and after the third time, I couldn’t ignore it.

What was he telling me?

I investigated a bit.

In two of the cases, he felt like he belonged when people gave him a job - helping to set up logistics for a trail race, and handing out gifts at an event we were hosting. In each case, he was given something important to do and not dismissed because of his age. In the case where he felt like he didn’t quite belong, he was the odd one out, the only one who didn’t like a certain food that was being served.

I know this is just one piece to a much bigger puzzle, but it’s one I hadn’t found before. His use of a certain word got my attention and this morning’s clouds helped me see it: I’m not painting what I am seeing. I’ve been reacting based on what I think and my own frustrations instead of what is actually happening for him. For weeks, I haven’t known how to figure it out, but suddenly things are clicking. I am hearing him in a new way and seeing more of his colors, textures and shadows. I paid attention to his words and suddenly heard him in a new way.

So this morning I asked him, “When do you feel like you belong?” 

His answer, “When people tell me things.” 

I used his word to understand him better and learn more. He feels valued when he is brought into conversations, when he is aware of what is going on and when he is included. He gets grumpy when he feels like he is discounted, left out, undervalued or underestimated.

It can be so hard to see what’s really going on through glasses tinted with bias and feelings of “should.” Yet this is the nature of how we as humans go through life. We can try to feel and see what others do, but we can only truly see things from our point of view. However, once in a while, we get glimpses of what life is like without the glasses. Someone helps us take them off and see what we couldn’t before. The world is suddenly brighter and more textured - clouds are more than just clouds. In seeing new things, we think to ask new questions.

Instead of drawing the orange that we know to be an orange in our head, we start to draw the orange that we see. 

Sometimes things just click and a series of seemingly unrelated thoughts tangle themselves into something that is surprisingly clear. When we can look beyond the concept of a cloud to see what is truly there and then remove the filters of our own bias, we have the capacity to understand more deeply and illustrate this beauty for others.

Parenting and relationships can be tricky business, and I’d love to hear from you about revelations you’ve had in learning to paint what you see when it comes to understanding the depth and nuance of our human interactions.