Living with an Artist

Thursday, August 29, 2013

John is an artist. A crazy good one. I can barely draw stick figures while he on the other hand can some how make them look as if they have their own characteristics. (They're stick figures!) In high school he would make me pictures that I'd nonchalantly accept but then giggle like a little girl when I brought them home. I love looking at his stuff.





I knew that because I am a sad, pathetic, immature person that his drawing would never make me jealous because I've never been able to draw. I knew that our relationship was safe from the green monster of jealous rearing its ugly Valerie-shaped head.




I've never wanted to date a guy who did the same things as me. When I was an English major, I could never have dated another guy who liked to write. Now, I could never seriously date someone who was into film...and was better than me. Because I am just not that big of a person. I would compare all our projects, jobs, gigs. And god forbid he was actually crazy good and won awards and made tons of money. I'd try to be happy for him. I'd put on a fake customer-service smile and tell him how great it is that he's won his second Oscar and then I'd cry in the closet or something.


And it'd be the ugly kind of crying.


Because really I'm a small, shallow person. I'd be miserable and I'd go back through all of my stuff and critique it to within an inch of its digital life. I'd tear apart any good thing that came out of it.




I know that says  a TON more about me than I would ever care to admit in person but it's definitely true. I have always wanted to be the best when it comes to things I like and I know that when it comes to video I'm nowhere close. I have tons of friends who are amazing and for them I can truly be happy in their accomplishments but it's different when it's your significant other. Isn't it?

So I was okay with the fact that I would never be on John's level when it came to drawing. I could totally live with that.



But then a funny thing started happening. John wasn't just a good artist. He was good at everything creative and Bob the Builder-y, and driving (but those are their own posts).

He'd grab my camera and take twenty pictures all better than mine having never touched it before.

This is him being all professional and looking through the viewfinder.

And then I'm over here like...why is everything black!?


Or I'd be sitting at my computer having spent an hour and an eternity trying to Photoshop my mediocre pictures into something better and he'd come by telling me what to do to make it into a work of art...In two seconds he'd accomplish what I had set out to do in half an hour.

Can be found in the Museum of Bad Art.
What it looks like after he's helped me. 


And both fortunately and unfortunately for me, his skill doesn't stop there. He can make my clothes match when it seems that nothing will go together. He can tell just by looking at the ugly color swatches at the makeup counter which will look best for my skin tone.


He'd never let this happen to me. 

His ability transcends just paper and pencil. His talent can be seen everywhere.

I love him so it wasn't like this whole thing was a deal breaker but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a bit annoying. Still is actually.



The things he can see in his head and the make sense in real life is a trait I envy greatly.

But no matter how much I wish I could do what he does without even the slightest thought, I love being with someone like that even if I thought I never would.

Besides the obvious clothing and make up upsides - his eye for design has helped me. Unlike me, he is not easily annoyed and his patience is at least five times mine so when I pick his brain apart about why that color works with that or I ask him why is that one thing on that side and not the other, he answers them and tries to help me see exactly what he does.

He shares what I can understand of his talents happily, never getting angry at me for being the shallow bitch that I am or asking for anything in return. Which is great because the only thing I can do without thinking is sleeping and I'm pretty sure he already has that down.




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