“If you can’t write well – don’t write”. That phrase, remade from one Leo Tolstoy’s famous phrase, I heard some years ago from the man, seemed to be very important for me than. At that moment I become confused and didn’t find what to say in response. But today, recalling that moment, I feel raising anger. How many beginnings – my and other’s – died facing that sneaky and cowardly claim: “can’t do it perfectly – don’t do it at all”.<o:p></o:p>
Cowardly – because the one claiming like that, prohibits me from coming the path one’s already come or haven’t had enough strength to come through. <o:p></o:p>
Sneaky – because it’s impossible to learn something without doing it wrong in the beginning. And the claimant knows about it.<o:p></o:p>
It’s impossible to learn something hiding the results of one’s work or efforts from any feedback. And it becomes “the rule – to hide” if every kind of feedback to beginning aspiring painter is – “Mmmmm, you’re not Rembrandt, indeed”.<o:p></o:p>
It’s impossible to do something if people important for you discourage your efforts and beginnings or just don’t want to see how significant their encouragement could be for you. It’s impossible to believe that you can do something when someone’s help turns to “you did wrong, I’ll show you how to do it right”. And if something was done for you by other people you’ll never posses a victory, because deep inside yourself you’ll know that it was not you… I was touched by a story about a boy who assertively asked his sister to draw an animal for his kinder garden’s task. “You’ll do it better” – the boy was sure, having no idea that he make his first steps to a false “Me”, when he shows the teacher a drawing, made by his sister. A step to a false “Me” and a permanent feeling that the boy’s own drawings aren’t worth at all. And he’ll never know the truth. <o:p></o:p>
So, go away the advisor! You, unable to accept and endure your imperfection, fallen down from heaven Ikarus with broken arms/legs. With your unconscious jealousy and sadness you’re trying to tear away young Ikaruses’ feathers. One of these fallen Ikaruses said to me explaining his motivation: “I don’t want them to feel pain with disappointment of getting know that their things wrong”. He didn’t realize himself what he said. “I don’t want them to go over their disappointment” that meant, because going over disappointment means going farther, trying once and once again. Getting a bit closer to the sun with every single effort. If someone did something that you can’t do – you have to go over it. <o:p></o:p>
Yes, perhaps they will not become Rembrandts. But experience of gladness of getting something new, unfamiliar, experience of first steps, of blank list that suddenly starts filling by different lines – will stay with us no matter what. So if you can write – write. Breath…<o:p></o:p>
