The Picture Frame
Someone I respect told me to be open to taking an art class. I hadn’t been in one since twelfth grade, and even then, basketball was taking up all of my time. But I enjoyed it. Got an A. We even made a portfolio for our final grade. So the seed was there.
When I looked up classes at the Contemporary here in Austin, I was late to sign up. The only thing available was something called mosaics. I signed up without even thinking about it, even though I didn’t really know what it was.
All mosaics is, at its core, is cut up glass or tile glued to a surface.
I’ll be honest, I didn’t know that was a thing. I would have chalked it up to an activity that older people did to pass the time. But once I sat down and saw how much work went into just trying to get something simple done, I started to respect it. And then once I knew what mosaics were, I started noticing them everywhere. They’re all around us, all the time, even if we don’t realize it.
The class was taught by a well-tenured teacher here in Central Texas and the room was full of older white ladies. I was by far the youngest person there. Night and day from everyone else. I felt out of place. I felt weird, to be honest. And that was on top of being a complete beginner in something I had never tried before. When you don’t know what’s going on and the things you make through the early exercises aren’t very good at all, it’s a humbling combination.
Our teacher gave out wooden picture frames to mosaic on top of as our first project. I couldn’t get it. I was able to glue my glass and grout, but that was about as good as it got. It didn’t look like anything I intended it to be. I sat there staring at this thing that was supposed to be art and it was just a mess. But then something shifted. I got over myself and started asking for help.
Everyone was so nice. Once they showed me certain things, it sped up the learning curve fast. After that, we all became fast friends. I became part of the crew. Just like that.
The physical process surprised me. Cutting glass and grouting has a blue collar feel to it. I started remembering family members who were DIY people, or those trips to Home Depot to get supplies and get something done around the house. There’s a planning stage, then the placing of the pieces to create an image, and that part is compelling. Very meditative. Your mind goes quiet and your hands take over. You stop thinking about everything else and just focus on where the next piece goes.
Most of the women in the class had grandchildren and their own lives and families. During our breaks or while we worked, they’d tell me stories about their former professional lives and when their kids, who are now grown, were young. Things like going to the park, spending time together, being present. That’s what they spoke of and remembered most. I started taking that advice and applying it to my own life. These women had raised children and experienced every age of them growing up. They had wonderful perspective, and they were very generous with sharing their stories.
The teacher was great because she gave you room. You were free to do whatever came to you. Some people would work on their own projects and others would follow the set class. If you had your own thing going, you’d just go off and get started. She ran a flexible class. At the end of each session, she’d go over what we learned that day and she always had a slide presentation of work she had done to show us where mosaics can be taken. Seeing what was possible from someone who had dedicated their life to it did a lot for me. It showed me the ceiling, and it was a lot higher than I thought.
I walked into that class not knowing what mosaics were, feeling out of place, and unable to make a picture frame look right. A few weeks later, I was part of a crew, learning a craft I never expected to love, and taking parenting advice from grandmothers who had seen it all.
Be open to things you’ve never heard of. Be open to the room where you don’t look like everyone else. Be open to being bad at something long enough to get good at it. You might walk out with a new skill, new friends, and wisdom you didn’t know you needed.