Artistic Cramming

If you’ve been around here for years, first of all, you get many many bonus points. Second, you already know that I have gift-buying issues. There are a lot of people in my family, I have a lot of friends (I know, I know, poor me) and it’s difficult to figure out what to give everyone that’s meaningful and also doesn’t send me into a spiral of crippling debt.

Consequently, I’ve started making everyone on my list a slightly different version of the same thing. Last year I hand-lettered quotes for each person from their favorite movie or book. It was super cool if I do say so myself. It also took me approximately 3,687 hours, which, it turns out, is the exact amount of time it takes me to develop a twitch behind my right eye. The twitch finally went away around November of this year, which is when I remembered it was time to start making presents again.

And as I find myself in the midst of present-making again (behind schedule and already over budget) it occurs to me why making presents takes me so long:

It’s the only time during the year that I do any sort of art.

I come from an artistic family that cares about appearances and can recognize high-quality work from your kindergarten macaroni art, so I have high standards when it comes to decorations or artwork of any kind. This is especially true when it comes to my own work. If I’m carving wood, I expect it to look like a professional woodcarver spent hours on it. If I’m playing with watercolors, I expect my work to be acceptable to hang in the Met. My expectations are high.

Which is problematic, because I never practice. I just don’t put the work in. I pick up a chisel in November and expect to create 37 perfectly sculpted, gift-sized wooden creatures in a month’s time. I dab with my paintbrush and get incredibly annoyed when it doesn’t look like I know what I’m doing.

Which is ridiculous, because the truth is – I don’t know what I’m doing.

And now that I’ve realized this cycle, I should probably start practicing art throughout the year. Perhaps choosing needlepoint for 2023, and practicing it until November so I can at least have a few months’ worth of experience under my belt. You know, invest in my artistic skills.

But I probably won’t. Because the one month of frustration and college finals-level cramming that happens isn’t enough to spur me into 11 months of dedicated practice. I’d rather suffer through November and early December than plan ahead and suffer all year ’round.

So here’s what I want to know: am I alone in this? Is there anything you don’t practice for, but you should? Or have you learned the lesson, and now you prepare in advance?