Drawing is torture!
In school, this subject was taught by a young man who also taught mechanical engineering. For high school students, class was held one day a week in a lathe workshop. Both boys and girls worked on the machines—we even practiced on the machines at a real factory. On graduation day, all graduates received not only diploma, but also a basic certification in woodworking. The best students even got an advanced certification!
We were very pleased with our woodwork. Our teacher was both kind and demanding.
Drawing lessons took place in a usual classroom—we worked on normal desks. The teacher carefully explained all the material so that everyone understood it. It was very difficult for me to understand what is shown in the drawing, and drawing was very difficult.
During the lessons, we had to write down the dimensions of each of the parts of the drawing and then sketch, which I did with great difficulty. We would then complete the drawing at home and bring it back to class.
Recently, I read a story by a Russian writer about a girl who had difficulty drawing—she could not even manage a basic drawing of a matchbox! The art teacher asked one of her classmates to help her by showing her what she had to draw. You’re probably thinking that this was a short-lived friendship! But, no—it ended in mutual love, because the girl turned out to be a wonderful companion, a beautiful, smart girl. With her classmate’s help, the girl learned to appreciate creativity and much more. But drawing was still torturous for her! She just didn’t get it.
Remember the children's magazine “Wick”? One of them had a story about a student in learning carpentry. The teacher showed him how to make a stool, repeating: “Measure seven times, cut once.” When the teacher came to check the boy’s work, he was stunned because the stool was huge. The diligent student understood this proverb to mean that the dimensions of the drawing should be increased by seven times! Well, he did it!
So, I didn’t like drawing at all. Good thing it was only once a week. The night before, at home, my father and sister would slave away, drawing blueprints of some unknown object, because its dimensions were taken by me! But what can you do? The homework had to be done. The next morning, I, happily, brought the finished drawing to class and handed it the teacher!
By the way, my classmates made great strides in drawing. And one guy from our class realized his dream after school and became a good architect! His work is still appreciated, and we are proud of our classmate!
It turns out that my poor attitude to drawing was inherited! My middle grandson graduated from a prestigious university in America. His diploma says that he specialized in architecture. But this grandson does not have the slightest desire to engage in this profession! He does not like and does not want to make drawings of buildings or construction projects. The kid is not searching for jobs based on his profession. This is how my genes played out!
I’ve never drawn very well. I remember how once my sister and I were told to read children's fairy tales and draw one of the characters. My sister and I chose Thumbelina. My sister copied the picture through a piece of glass, and we colored it together—it turned out great! But my elementary school teacher said that this was not our own work—she wouldn’t give us an A, but fine, she’d let us have a B! I didn’t argue with her—let it be that way! By the way, when I myself became a primary school teacher, I had to teach drawing, singing, and PE, since teachers’ salaries depended on the number of subjects taught. No one asked me if I knew how to draw well (or if I could even draw at all, for that matter), whether I sang or went to an athletic club! Thank goodness.
By the way, when I moved to America and began to teach Russian in American schools here, I had to draw somethings, like vegetables, fruits, etc. on the board for clarity. So my students told me that all my drawings are like broccoli! So I ended up having to label my drawings anyway.
So, drawing has remained torturous for me my whole life.