"The province of every human being"

In his book The Art Spirit, Robert Henri wrote, "Art, when really understood, is the province of every human being.  It is simply a question of doing things, anything, well.  It is not an outside, extra thing."

Everyone in this world has some artistic ability.  Obviously, not everyone sees himself as an artist.  In fact, a lot of people would scoff if someone implied that they were in any way artistic.  However, according to Henri, everyone has artistic abilities whether they want to or not.  It's a matter of recognizing art, really understanding it, and perhaps embracing it.  To create art does not necessarily mean a painting, a drawing, a symphony, or a building.  Doing anything well, doing anything beautifully, is art.  Loving well, cleaning well, performing a job well - perhaps this is why the phrase "the art of" (I consider it a cliche) has become a household phrase.  Apparently lots of people recognize doing things well as art in itself - the art of love, the art of cooking, the art of war, and so on.  Maybe it would be better to say that the process of doing things well is artful, not necessarily art itself.  For example, a clean house is not a piece of art; but the process of cleaning may be artful if it is done well.

However artistic a person may be, they may not be an artist, per se.  The artfulness must really be understood.  Only those who recognize the artfulness of an object or an action could be considered an artist.

Becoming an artist

To begin with, God gave me an innate ability to design, an eye for color and composition, skills that have been honed through the years by practice, trial and error, and instruction from teachers, professors, and my mother.  Besides God, my mother gets the most credit.  She is an artist herself, though not by trade.  Art was her minor in college, elementary education her major.  Fortunately, when she was in school, I was a little girl, my brother a little boy, not two years older.  Mom would practice her lesson plans and object lessons on me and Jeremy.  She would also let us try the various drawing exercises that she did in school.  During the school year, she would bring her supplies home and let brother and me draw eith them.  I remember a particular evening she taught us how to do a blind contour drawing with charcoal pencils.  I don't even remember what we drew, probably a coffee cup or a flower arrangement or something.  But I remember thinking, Wow!  What a cool thing to do!

During the summers, Mom would keep another little girl and boy, both about the same age as my brother and me.  They would come over each weekday morning and we'd play until lunch time.  Oh, the things we did!  Hid and seek, war (boys vs. girls, of course), build forts, carve out trails, explore the uncharted land of a vast and wild jungle, swing from trees, make pea shooters as weapons, travel all over the United States in a stationary orange truck.  Such creativity!  Such adventure!  After lunch, Mom required we have quiet time, alone time in which we could read or write or do art.  We would make collages out of construction paper, record out adventures of the day and illustrate them with crayons and watercolors.  Those summers are when I really fell in love with creativity, with adventure, with imagination, with art!