Many of you know how dearly I’ve wanted to learn how to draw and explore creating visual art. This March will make 9 years since I began making good on a pledge to myself. I would chase away the ghosts, silence the inner voices saying I had no business picking up a paintbrush or a drawing pencil.

The Birmingham-Bloomfield Art Center has become the place for fulfilling that pledge. I’ve taken classes there on and off for years: pottery classes (wheel and handbuilding); a pleasant watercolor workshop; a disastrous drawing class that was way over my head; two fabulous out-of-the-box mixed-media classes.  About three years ago I fell into a rhythm and began learning from a marvelous palette of teachers. They have guided me with patience, compassion and a drop or three of firmness until finally, I am beginning to see with an artist’s eye.

For the past week, I have kept this page on my desk. It was our final assignment in Drawing 2.       I struggled mightily, redrawing lines, erasing, repositioning shadows. Our teacher offered a steady stream of encouragement and precise suggestions for improving our work. I measured and remeasured, asked my eyes again and again, What are you actually seeing?

Bit by bit, the woman in the photo became real. She has dimension. She expresses a mood. I still can’t totally believe that I actually drew this. But      I did. Of course there are improvements to be made, refinements to be learned. I’ll get there. I’m keeping her on my desk a while longer. The ghosts have been silenced. Instead, I look at her and hear her invite me to pick up my pencil again and again and once again.