Good Solid C

My high school art teacher was awesome.

He looked like Santa Claus.

He was older then, and I'm not sure he's still living. He had a quick smile and a bit of a belly.  He had twinkly eyes.  He also smoked a pipe in his office with the back door open.

He taught me to see in fragments and to see as a whole while focusing on a small detail.  Most things we put a label on are a combination of shapes.  Master the shapes and then put them together.  That way, saying 'I can't draw noses' sounds a little weak.  Draw what you see.  See shapes.

I was such a teen age girl.  My world was consumed with my hair, make up and if the boy I liked noticed I was alive. One day, when I was upset about something trivial, he handed me a stick of gum and said,

'I betcha the sun comes up tomorrow morning.'

It was the wake-up call I needed.

He also called me 'Stiff' because I wore a back brace for a while.  My mother found zero humor in this nick-name and was quite offended, but I thought it was hilarious.  It gave me a way to laugh at myself when what I really wanted to do was tunnel under a rock and light the brace on fire.  That's a whole other story.

We had weekly notebook assignments that were designed to support basic drawing skills.  Keep the fundamentals strong, and you keep a good foundation sort of thing.  The assignments ranged from: hands, eyes, noses, bottles, your reflection in the back of a spoon, shoes, ribbon, crumpled paper, eggs and more.

They were due at the end of class every Wednesday no matter what.

Every Wednesday at the beginning of class we'd all be furiously working on our assignments.  I'd go to him for help and he say, 'Darken the darks and lighten the lights.'  I go back to my desk and work some more.

At some point I'd go and turn my assignment in.

I'd watch him find my name and tick over to the week's box where he would pencil in a grade.

'Good solid C', he'd say.

I'd yank the notebook back and return to my desk to keep working.

I can't say how many times this happened in my four years of high school, but it happened plenty.  When I'd had enough, done enough, or was out of time, I'd go back and push it across the desk to him one last time.

'Done?' he'd say.

'Done.' I'd say.

Then he would find that box again and write down a grade.  It was usually an A, maybe a B.  I had good art skills.  I loved it.  It was my thing.  And I wasn't about to let him put a C in his grade book.

A few times I thought he was joking and I thought I'd call his bluff.  That didn't work for sure.  Something about seeing a C in that little box made me crazy.  I'd snatch that notebook back and keep working.

When I was a senior, I asked him why he always did that to me.  He really didn't do it to anyone else.

He smiled.

He asked me if I liked getting C's and I readily admitted that I hated it.  He then explained that if he would have written down B's or even A's, I never would have pushed myself to be better.  He explained that I was already as good or better than most of the other students but that shouldn't be an excuse for me not to try harder.  It wasn't about them, it was about me.  I had the skills and ability to be better than I was but I needed to learn to push myself and never be satisfied with a 'Good Solid C'.

I've thought about and applied that concept so many times since then.

Sometimes good enough isn't good enough when you're capable of more.

When I design, I take additional steps at the beginning to hopefully avoid mistakes later.  I do this with the understanding that as the job moves through engineering and into production, because it's been done right the first time around, there shouldn't be problems or needless double checking.  I could design faster if I didn't worry about some of those details but it's worth it to me and everyone else to do it right.

I've also found that on the flip side, sometimes good enough is just that...good enough. It doesn't make sense to give up something better for something good.  T was assigned the pre-game treat last week for football.  I've seen some moms do these amazing cookies that are little edible works of art complete with a cute slogan that's stamped and embossed and looks magazine cover worthy.  They must take hours to do.  I neither had the time or desire to do it, even though I could have.  I bought a bag of candy, printed some words and had my boy separate, stuff and staple those zip lock baggies together.  I was done with my part in about 5 minutes.  T was invested in doing something nice for his team.  It wasn't about my art skills.  It was about the boys.  They loved the sugar and didn't care about the fluff. Works for me.

It's different for each of us where we draw that line.

I haven't been a serious fine artist for years but the bug is still in me.  Now I use a computer for design.  I still love pencils and a good quality paper that feels right on my finger tips.  I have a camera that I really need to learn how to use better.

Whatever it is that I do, whatever task or challenge I face, I've resolved to never be satisfied with a good solid C.