How I Started My Artistic Journey

And how you can as well

O, the Vistas We Climb, Janaka Stagnaro, watercolor

“I invent nothing, I rediscover.” —Auguste Rodin

Now, I have a particular time and place in mind when I began my artistic journey. But it is not valid. Having taught art to children in various ways for over 30 years, there is creativity at work whether a child is in an art class or even has art supplies. I do not remember drawing or playing with paints in my early years, but I am sure I did. I vaguely remember being graded on some artwork somewhere around fifth or sixth grade and feeling like a failure. Whether this is a false memory, I do not know; I know that around that time, I shut myself off from art.

I do remember drawing military planes and tanks in class, however. I drew a lot of T-34 tanks. I took no art classes in high school, nothing creative besides writing. I was into sports.

It wasn’t until I was preparing to go into the Peace Corps 40 years ago, in my early twenties, that I made a serious effort to do art.

While working at this horrible temp job (just a few weeks), as a collector whose job it was to get people to pay up (I usually told them not to worry about it), I was in a cubicle next to this guy my age who was drawing a dragon.

“Man, I wish I could do that,” I said to him, with a wisp of a fantasy of making art like Roger Dean, the artist of Yes album covers.

He looked at me square in the eyes. “You can. Just go to the library and get a book on how to draw!”

“I’m not an artist,” I hemmed and hawed. Subconscious tapes blared that my self-identity might be shattered.

“Just do it.” And he returned to his dragon.

That night, I went to the library and got a book on drawing. I opened timidly to a page on how to draw a tiger, got a pencil and paper, and did it. I drew a tiger! I was blown away. Doors opened to a new identity.

“What would life be if we had no courage to attempt anything?” — Vincent Van Gogh

I never saw this angel again to thank him for his encouragement.

I was soon off to Cameroon, West Africa, bringing with me a couple of art books (Pencil Drawing Techniques by David Lewis and Drawing Scenery: Landscapes and Seascapes by Jack Hamm — both of which I still own and are well-worn), pencils, watercolors, a sketchbook, and watercolor paper. And I began to play with art. At my post in the apartment where previous volunteers had created a library, there were also two art books — Drawing from the Right Side of Your Brain by Betty Edwards and Zen and Seeing: Seeing/Drawing as Meditation by Frederick Franck. I recommend all four books.

Here is the first watercolor, which my wife framed for me. She says it is not for sale. It is from a postcard my mother sent me from their trip on the Rhine.

Castle on the Rhine, Janaka Stagnaro, watercolor

While I did a lot of drawing and some painting, I had not immersed myself in art. It wasn’t until ten years later when I was training to be a Waldorf teacher, that art became an integrated part of my life. It became a facet of my spiritual journey.

Some of the works I did in my Waldorf training

After teaching for 25 years as a Waldorf teacher, where art is integrated into all subjects, I worked for the Monterey Arts Council and went into schools that were bereft of art. I currently teach art full-time at an elementary school. While I may whip out a painting or drawing for a demonstration, students will ask how I am so good at art. Then I tell them I have been doing art seriously for 40 years, far longer than they have been alive. Then I repeat my learning mantra: Practice makes better.

I have told this story to many adults who do the same thing I did when they enviously look at my work. If you have the desire to do art, you must apply yourself to practice. So many will say they can only draw stick figures, which is nothing more than a self-imposed limitation from school when they last tried.

So if you want to bring art into your life, go to the library on how to draw. And just do it!

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“Art is a collaboration between God and the artist, and the less the artist does the better.” — Andre Gide

Thanks for reading. Let me know if you have any questions. I would love to hear how you began your artistic journey. I will leave you with a poem I wrote in Cameroon, a presage of who I would become.

Diefenbach, Janaka Stagnaro, oil pastel.

The Painter

A million horns sound
The ending of the day, while
The sun paints the sky
Orange in exhaustion, unseen
By the passing red eyes.

They see only dinners on trays;
Martinis on overload.
While their day dies,
His never ends; no unwinding
Of the clock for him.

As others socialize or
Become TV-tized, he sits
By his easel,
Creating the coming day.

— Janaka Stagnaro
from The Throne of the Mountain Kings: Poems Strewn from Africa to the Himalayas

Happy creating…

If you want to see more of my work, please visit my online gallery here.