Fearless and uninhibited, I tossed the paint in a criss-cross pattern to fill in the white areas of the canvas as instructed. Here I was on a Saturday night, in the company of girlfriends and nearly 50 other neophytes at the Canvas by U in Dunwoody, Ga., a suburb of Atlanta.
We were privileged to be under the personal guidance of seasoned artist Stacy Abston, the owner, and her appointed team as we worked on the evening’s theme piece: Fashionista.
It was my first time in an art class since high school. This experience was different in comparison; it was a girlfriend’s night out and an opportunity for us to channel our inner Frida Kahlo and Annie Lee. We were taught the basics of acrylic painting as we sipped on cocktails and beverages.
Abston was so reassuring as she reminded us that there’s no right or wrong or any need to worry because we had the benefit of the white paint on our palette that would act as a primer and erase what we didn’t want.
I have to admit, my inner critic never surfaced. Maybe it’s because the little red devil was a tad tipsy from the spirits I’d been sipping on all evening. (Shh! What goes on at Canvas by U, stays…)
I loved the fact that I was provided a direct channel to my own self-expression with the use of a tool so lightweight — a paintbrush. It was as simple as writing my name.
Here she is, Paris-Grace, named for my paternal aunt and grandmother, on display for all eyes to see. Is she an extension of me or my alter ego? I can’t say for sure. But I can tell you that I am hooked on this new form of creativity. Musée de Louvre, here I come. –yvette caslin
