My friend, Rozzie Roo, came over to the house a few weeks ago with her art folder from her teaching days of years ago, and gave me my first art lesson, using crayon pastels.
I had so much fun with her, that I decided to purchase my own pastels, and then, with childlike exuberance, asked if she’d be interested in meeting with me on a monthly basis to do some art projects.
Being the loving, agreeable person that she is, Rozzie enthusiastically accepted, and we set up another date to do just that, last week.
So, she comes over on Thursday, and we’re quietly sitting at my kitchen table.
We’re intently focused on doing our individual “art-projects”, with my nifty, brand new, 50-count, extra fine quality oil pastels neatly laid out on said table; and her broken, chewed-up, miniscule pastels strewn on her side of the table, when Rozzie, suddenly looks over at my art work, and nonchalantly says to me,
“Ya know, Hun, if you break your pastels and peel off their wrappings, you’ll be able to work with them better to get the effect you’re looking for with the waves in your picture.”
Uh-Hun.
At this point, I’m skeptically staring at her, with an expression of total disbelief, when she encouragingly continues,
“Lucie, why don’t you just put on your big girl pants, take the plunge, and snap ALL of them in half?”
“You’ll feel great after you’ve broken the first one, and you’ll NEVER look back!”
“Come on, try one – just one. Snap it for Rozzie-Roo.”
“You’ll feel much better.”
“I promise,” she sincerely continues.
I anxiously look up and see Rozzie smilin’ at me with that kind, nurturing look that is so typical of Roz.
“What?” I incredulously ask her, while breaking out in a cold, nervous sweat.
“Are you nuts? These are brand, spanking new. I just bought them.”
“Cazzo!”
“Why would I want to break them, for Pete’s Sake?” I continue, while eyeballing her ancient, broken (well-used) “micro-pastels”, which she used for years teaching local youngsters.
“And besides that, Rozzie, I really don’t like to get my fingers “yucky” when I’m working. I don’t like stuff caked under my nails,” I adamantly explain, raising my left eye brow, while scrutinizing her crayon-caked finger nails on her right hand.
“Yuck! It makes my skin crawl, just thinking about it,” I emphatically continue, as Rozzie correctly interprets the judgmental affect of my raised left eye brow, and sheepishly starts to wipe-off her hands with one of our cleaning towels.
“Ok, Lucie,” she patiently says to me. “You color the way you wanna color.”
“I think you’d get the look you want on your picture, if you’d break them,” she encouragingly continues.
“But do it your way, Honey. I’ll leave you be.”
Uh-Hun.
So, for the next fifteen or so minutes, the great Georgia O’Keeffe and I, quietly continue working on our individual art pieces.
I then suddenly stop working; impulsively grab ahold of one of my crayons, and snap the crayon in half.
“There,” I impishly say to her.
“Ya happy? I broke my first pastel,” I smugly inform her, as I promptly start breaking the next one.
“I hope you’re pleased that my nifty new crayons are soon to be lookin’ like yours,” I curtly continue, while decisively snapping another one.
She slowly and lovingly shakes her head back and forth and says, “Lucie, now use the crayon like I taught you to and see if you like the results.”
“Go on.”
“Do it, Honey. Try to do what I showed you, ok?”
Hm….
I could be wrong, Miss O’Keeffe, but I think there’s a method to your madness!
I’ll never be the next Grandma Moses, People, but I’m sure having fun with this new “hobby” of mine.
I still have a few “unbroken crayons” and that’s ok.
I did a fairly decent job breaking the first few and got my fingers pretty grimy, smudging some of the pastels on my piece to get that “artistic effect,” to please Ms. O’Keeffe, herself.
Maybe next time, I’ll break a few more, and maybe even get my finger nails really yucky.
Who knows?
I just know that the kid in me that preserved my precious, set of 64-Binney and Smith, Crayola Christmas Crayons every year, felt a whopping sense of abandonment and childlike innocence with every snap, and highly recommend the “breaking of one’s Crayola’s” to everyone out there old enough to know better .
Have a grand week, People!
Dance in the street.
Throw your bra in the air.
And by all means, “snap a few crayons”.
I’ll catch up with you next time, living life from my shoes!
Life in Lucie's Shoes 
I loved this post. I used to watch my 4th grade students and their crayons; I felt I gained insight into them by watching how they handled those precious things. I had breakers, preservers, sharers, and stingy-butts (a description one of them used when a friend refused to share a particularly enticing shade from her huge box of Crayolas). I had those who threw them, those who ate them, those who peeled them, and those who spent more time dropping them and picking them up than coloring with them. And always there was the poor tyke who listlessly picked through them, disappointed with each, and too paralyzed by indecision to complete an art project. Thanks for bringing back happy memories, Lucie.
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You’re so funny, Janet (even in your comments)! I remember the “crayon eaters”, well! Used to make me kinda sick to my stomach. Wasn’t sure which made me sicker – the “bugger eaters” or the “crayon eaters”! I ended up teaching junior high kids and graduated to “wind blowers”….many a day my classroom smelled like a “boy’s locker room” or worse yet: a sewer system! And my instructional assistant and I couldn’t wear “perfume” to “mask the odor” because I’m allergic to most “scents”….oh well….hm…sounds like another “blog” to me! I probably would have been one of “your preservers”- we only got them 1/time a year and I sure didn’t wanna lose any or (God forbid!) BREAK any!!! 🙂 Thanks for the stop-by! Lucie 🙂
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Good for you, Lucie. You have a wonderful friend. My poor old pastels are in pretty sad shape and I do get pretty yucky when using them or any paints for that matter. I must be honest and admit that although there are plenty of broken ones, I have never broken one on purpose. Might try that when I buy some new ones. 😀 Talk about a stress buster. I love, love, love your first masterpiece. You chose my favorite subjects, water and boats. You fibbed when you said you have no artistic talent. Are you sure you’ve never drawn, sketched or painted before?? Oh and BTW, congratulations on being around for a year now. Hope to see you here for many more. 🙂
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Yes, I do! (Have a wonderful friend!) And thanks, again, Elizabeth for your kind words of encouragement and stopping by to read my silliness. 🙂
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Hi Lucie,
I am Ralph’s friend and guest host Janice. I also know KSBeth. Your post reminded me of a class I had that used to break all my crayons. I was mad (destruction of property) until they told me why they did it. They wanted to share with each other.
Thanks again for visiting my site today. How funny that you knew Ralph.
Janice
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Hi Janice, What an honor that you not only read one of my silly posts, but took the time to comment.Ralph and Beth have followed my silliness since I first started. They’re BOTH such lovely (and funny!) people and I feel so touched that they’ve both encouraged my silliness. I’m truly honored and touched that friends of Ralph and Beth would “stop by”….Ralph and Beth have followed my brand of silliness since I started and I love them both too pieces! They’re such lovely people. I regularly read you and enjoy your suggestions. And thank you, thank you, thank you for stopping by. I’m honored… 🙂
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Hi Lucie,
I am honored by you. Did I know that you “read me?” I don’t think we’ve met before. Have we? Linda subscribes to my blog, and Ralph drops by every now and again. Any friend of theirs is a friend of mine. So, nice to meet you (if we haven’t already).
Janice
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how great, what a way to step out of your comfort zone. i do currently have a fresh box of 64 crayolas and i love them –
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See! I knew you and i were “kindred spirits”!!! 🙂
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I refuse to throw my bra in the air.
There is an answer to a few questions of life in this crayon story, I think. Don’t ask me what it is. Let me snap a few crayons and get back to you.
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Hm…YOU were the first one of thought of when I said to “throw your bra in the air”…..I’m HIGHLY disappointed in you…highly disappointed!!! :)P PS And yes, there are definite some “answers to life” in there someplace….. 🙂
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How about I throw my briefs in the air? (Uh oh… can someone help me retrieve them from the ceiling fan?)
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As long as they’re not “holey”, we’re good to go! I don’t like “ratty lookin’ undies or socks”!!!! :)P
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Oh, they are my Sunday go to meeting briefs — they are holy.
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:0 Thank GOD!!! You had me worried, Turkey!!
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