Why I Teach Art
A Little Shimmer to Take Home: Why I Teach Art
“I could never do that.”
I hear those words so often when people stop at my art booth. Women and men linger over the paintings, drawn to a particular color or a place that feels familiar. Then, when our conversation turns to whether they might enjoy painting, that little sentence slips out.
Sometimes it comes with a laugh. Sometimes a story follows—about a teacher, a discouraging comment, or how long it has been since they tried anything creative. I always want to know what might happen if they gave themselves the chance.
Because one of my favorite moments as a teacher is watching someone look down at their painting, pause, and realize: I’m doing this. That look of surprise and delight is a large part of why I teach.
I understand the voices that tell us to be practical. My whole life, I heard that practical things were the most important. There were responsibilities to consider and sensible choices to make. Creative longings could seem difficult to explain in those terms.
As a young girl, I lived on a beautiful waterway and grew up watching the ducks and wildlife with awe. And, I had my own quiet rebellion. I would take a raft out to watch the sunset, letting myself be bathed in light and color. Evening after evening, I wanted to be there—to watch the colors change and experience something beautiful without having to justify the time.
Looking back, I can see how that love of color kept finding its way into my life. It became part of my work in jewelry and gemology, where close observation reveals an extraordinary world within a gemstone. It found expression in writing, through the details that bring a scene or story to life. And it continued to draw me toward painting. The desire to create stayed with me through all those chapters. Perhaps that is one reason I care so much about making room for it in other people’s lives.
My teaching style is personal, thorough, and encouraging. I love small group formats because they give us time to work closely together. We can pause over a question. I can demonstrate a brushstroke again, help someone understand why a color mixture feels muddy, or offer a small adjustment that helps the next step make sense.
We paint step by step, with room to understand what we are doing and why. Students can see my process, watch their own work develop, and learn from the discoveries happening beside them. As one participant shared:
“It was an excellent class with lots of personal attention. I loved blending colors.”
Another wrote: “You are such a calm, inspiring teacher. Your feedback was so helpful.”
Those words mean a great deal to me. I want students to feel comfortable asking questions and trying something unfamiliar. Learning becomes much more enjoyable when you feel supported enough to experiment.
Gouache offers such a welcoming place to begin. I love its rich color and the freedom it gives us to make adjustments. Traditional gouache can be reactivated with water, and its opacity allows us to layer and revise. A passage that feels awkward can often become the beginning of a useful discovery.
That flexibility is especially helpful when someone is learning. We can explore a mixture, adjust an edge, or reconsider a shape as we go. Gouache is also lovely for working outdoors, where its portability and responsiveness invite us to capture changing light and color. One student put it beautifully:
“My favorite thing was how much easier it was than expected. Gouache is so forgiving!”
When a student begins to understand that a painting can change, I often see them relax. They become more curious. They try the next brushstroke with a little more confidence.
Creating asks something different of us than so much of daily life. For a little while, we give our attention to color, water, shape, and the movement of a brush. We make decisions with our hands and eyes. We discover what happens when we try. A painting becomes a reminder of that afternoon—of learning something, laughing together, and finding an ability we might have overlooked.
That matters. Our lives hold so many responsibilities. There is value in making room for something that brings us alive.
My holiday acrylic craft classes offer another way into that experience. We gather to paint, enjoy color, and make something festive for our homes. These classes are for the pure pleasure of creating in community: sharing ideas, trying patterns, and enjoying an afternoon or evening together. There is something wonderfully freeing about choosing a color simply because you love it.Joy is a good reason to gather around a table.
When I teach, I hope to offer a little of what those evenings on the raft gave me: time to notice beauty, room to be curious, and permission to follow color somewhere unexpected.
I love helping people discover that creating can belong in their lives. They can begin where they are, learn a few tools, and see what grows with practice. The finished piece is something they can take home. But I hope they carry home something else, too—the memory of looking down in surprise and thinking, I made this.
A little shimmer from our time together, and the confidence to begin finding their own.
If you’ve ever stood in front of a painting and thought, “I could never do that,” I would love to welcome you to the table. Explore upcoming classes at elizabethvantassel.com/events.
