Big Fish, Big Pond: the Story of the Artsy Fish who found her Way

By: Sarah Sparks

I have always loved art making, from the first time I drew on the

sidewalk with chalk to my first swish of a paintbrush on paper. There is a

reason that every year I would scour the Sears catalog for any arts or

crafts toy that I could find to add to my Christmas wish list. In many of my

childhood works, I proclaimed that I wanted to be an artist when I grew

up, drawing myself with the token beret, standing in front of an easel with

palette and brush in hand. Art excited me and I knew at a young age that

my passion lies within the visual arts.

Early on, it was obvious to others around me that I had a talent for

creating art. I entered and won many poster contests and class design

competitions and my work was often chosen for display on the walls. I was

a quiet child with a keen sense of observation and attention to detail and

my success led me to strive for realism in my work. I had an intense ability

to focus on a project for hours at a time, editing and perfecting my work to

the best of my ability.

Because of the support of my family, peers, and teachers, I grew

confident in my abilities and never lost my interest in creating works. As

Feldman discusses, the social value that is placed on aesthetic

development and the opportunities to experience or be exposed to art are

crucial to the development of aesthetic sensibilities (1985). My parents did

just this, in that they continuously supplied me with new materials to spark

my creativity and also provided me with new experiences in the arts, such

as signing me up for KinderArt classes, or other various summer

programs that developed my artistic skills. My mother was also talented in

the arts when she was in school and because of this, she really supported

my interests. I wanted to model myself after her.

Like most children, I drew images of myself, my family members,

images from pop culture, such as cartoons, or other various subject

matters that were deemed acceptable by my peers. I did not have an art

teacher in elementary school, only my homeroom teacher who provided

us with random cultural crafts or opportunities to illustrate along with our

journaling activities. Even without specific arts instruction, my interest in

image making flourished during this time period as I practiced developing

my observation skills and imagination whenever I got the chance. Art

making during this time was fun because it was instigated, controlled, and

measured by myself. Without rules, I was able to thrive.

It was also during this time period that I was identified as eligible for

the Gifted and Talented program at school, where I was pulled out once or

twice a week to develop and create projects or activities

with peers who were similar to my own mental age. It

was here that I discovered bookmaking, which turned

out to be of great use for me because I had shown

interest in writing as well. In my childhood portfolio,

there are many examples of handmade books that I

wrote and illustrated from my own imagination. I used

these books and other art works primarily as a source

for giving gifts to those who supported my artistic

abilities as a way of thanking them for the happiness that

art gave me.

Upon entry into middle school, I became very

self-conscious of my appearance, of sharing my

ideas, and of being accepted by my peers. I was able

to shine through occasional group projects, where I

was chosen to design and illustrate posters, and also through my

involvement with the Pep Club, where I stayed after school for hours

perfecting my renditions of our school mascot for spirit posters.

I quit band in 6th grade in favor of taking an art class, which was only

9 weeks long. However, it was my first class with a real art instructor and I

was excited and nervous about gaining her approval. She turned out to be

Est.  1994,  a  portrait    of  my  mother  drawn  on  Post-­‐It  notes.  I    modeled  my  artistic  self  after  her  abilities.  

a quirky, disinterested woman, who assigned generic projects that

introduced us to basic media. I don’t recall her walking around the room

much or engaging in conversation with me about how I could improve my

work. Because this elective was not offered at multiple levels, I would not

have art class again until high school.

I do not have any evidence of projects from this time period that I

have kept, which tells me that none of the works inspired me or felt

personal enough to me that I cared to keep them. This time period, for me,

reflected the “U-curve” of artistic development that is discussed by

Gardner, in that my lack of practice of drawing and seeing led to a dip in

my artistic development during my pre-teen years, possibly motivated by

the pressure to conform and fit in (1986). I did not want to show my artistic

gifts in environments where they would make me feel out casted or

strange, much like other gifted children who will “dumb down” their

abilities to avoid asynchronous attention (Silverman, 1997).

When I entered high school, I made it a point to sign up for an Art 1

class to further improve on my abilities. It was here that I met Mr.

Grimsley, who just so happened to be the same art teacher that my

mother had when she was in high school. He was completely different

than the art teacher I encountered in middle school, in that he was active

and engaged in the classroom. He thoroughly explained assignments on

the board and encouraged conversation to talk about possibilities for

attacking the design problem at hand. He was supportive but honest,

pointing out areas of weakness that needed improvement.

When sophomore year began, I made the decision to take multiple

advanced level courses to keep up with my other gifted peers- at the

expense of not having room for art courses in my schedule. I can still

remember Mr. Grimsley tracking me down in the hallway and asking me

why I hadn’t signed up for more arts courses. He pointed out my ability

and my need to continue growing this ability and encouraged me to realize

my talent as a part of my identity. He held me accountable so that I would

not waste the gifts that I had. Needless to say, the next two years of high

school, I signed up for numerous arts courses, including AP Studio art my

senior year.

My other two art instructors during high school were very old-

fashioned in their ways of teaching art. They taught the processes and

media of art, but never the history, cultures, or movements in art.

Students were allowed some freedom to interpret projects in their own

individualistic and expressive ways, but often the works were very similar

and bland in style.

It was during this time that my artistic development felt stagnant. I

could accurately copy images that I saw, but when left without a prompt, I

was very weak in coming up with my own imagery,

compositions, or ideas. This came to a head during my

AP Studio Art course, which I took as an independent

study. I was left alone often, and found myself

procrastinating on starting new projects because I

was uninspired. I often threw works away after

starting them, because I would hit a roadblock in my

technique that would frustrate me to the point of

quitting.

Once again, Mr. Grimsley came to my

rescue. He allowed me to take a day off and travel

to see an exhibit of works at a local college. I came

back very inspired and fresh with new ideas that

day. I learned the importance of surrounding

yourself with inspiration of other artists and

seeking out opportunities to encounter art, instead of trying to do it all on

your own.

In college, I felt very behind in the areas of technology and art

history because I was not exposed to them in high school. Because I had

begun college seeking a degree in graphic design, I learned really quickly

2002-­‐  self-­‐portrait  in  acrylic  paint.  The  unique  perspective  and  mood  of  the  piece  characterize    my  frustrations  in  my  artistic  growth  during  high  school.  

that I had some catching up to do in these areas. I can remember being

completely frustrated by my beginning level graphic design course

because I had no concept of how to use Photoshop and my teacher

assumed that everyone was familiar with the program. I would spend

hours fighting back and forth with my work, clicking here and there, trying

to get the simplest of edits for my work, when others knew the secrets of

maneuvering about the program.

It was at this low point of wanting to quit that I once again

remembered the wise words of Mr. Grimsley. Shortly before graduation,

he had asked me what I was planning on doing for a career and if I had

ever considered teaching because he thought I would be good at it. I had

wanted to be an art teacher since childhood, but flying high on my senior

success in art, I decided I wanted to do art for myself via commercial

artist or graphic design. At this point of failure, his words rang true in my

head and I quickly changed my major to art education. I credit him for

seeing the service and leadership sides of me and for once again

encouraging me to use my strengths in pursuit of lifelong happiness.

It was in my college studio classes that I learned discipline and

freedom from perfection. Once I was freed from my “small pond” and

placed among others of equal abilities, I became unsure of myself as an

artist for the first time. Suddenly I saw my proportion issues, the lack of

depth in my backgrounds, and my inability to compose unique

compositions. Sure, I had the technical skills for drawing and painting that

I had developed on my own, but I had no artistic personal “voice.” This

became the most clear to me when I was assigned the task of writing an

artist statement for my body of work. Suddenly, I had to really work to

achieve my artistic development as an adult.

I did learn to focus on particular themes or concentrations within

my work, even if they did revolve around the typical themes of family and

nature that had permeated my work since childhood. It was here that I felt

the most comfort and support, so it felt natural to me to paint or draw what

I loved the most, which I still continue to do in

my current work. A lot of my college work is

very organic in nature and I also included a lot

of portraits. By the end of my undergraduate

work, I began to concentrate on mixed media

paintings and a series of works around the idea

of “Art for the Blind.” A lot of my initial

creativity that I found in childhood- exploring

new media, working with my hands, and

using symbols in my work- all came flooding

back to me during this process. I really

learned why I create artwork and for the first

time, thought about how my audience would

read or interpret my work for their own understanding.

Ultimately, in college I discovered that when I hit that wall of no

return in a work, that I have to step back, reassess my purpose and goals

for the work, and resolve the work for its own purpose, even if it deviates

from my original concept. To be original in your work, you must first

understand what intrigues you, what purposes drive you, and what

creative ways you can interpret these messages to your audience. In my

current research and exploration in my adult life, I am striving to discover

answers to these questions and am finding new ways of incorporating

them into my works.

To see a full portfolio of my life artworks, visit

www.sarahwsparksartist.weebly.com.

References:

Duncum, P. (1986). Breaking down the alleged “U” curve of artistic

development. Visual Arts Research, 12(1), pp. 43-54.

Feldman, D. H. (1985). The concept of nonuniversal developmental

domains: Implications for artistic development. Visual Arts Research,

11(1), pp. 82-89.

2012-­‐  “Self-­‐Portrait  of  my  Mind,”  mixed  media  paper  cut  work.  In  this  recent    work,  I  show  my  continued  frustration  to  allow  my  true  self  to  fly  freely    within  the  constraints  of    my  daily  life.  

Silverman, L. (1997). The construct of asynchronous development.

Peabody Journal of Education, 72(3/4), pp. 36-58.