I taught my first art lesson, to a group of local Boulder seniors in assisted living!  On a whim, I signed up to see if this might be something I would be interested in doing. Take on one more thing? It was hard to justify, especially since it would not be about the money. But, now I am excited to tell you about it.

I did it. Despite my huge confidence and fears (I have a love of painting, but no formal art training), I walked into the building and up the elevator and took a chance. What did I have to lose? Maybe they don’t ask me back? Not the worst thing, because I have plenty to do at home to keep me busy. But going into the space and learning that these seniors were also putting themselves out there was helpful. Most interestingly and what struck me the most was that it was not just about painting. They had recently said goodbye to their former art teacher. They had clearly developed a sweet relationship with her saying that they saw more of her than their own family members. What shoes to step into! Perhaps it wouldn’t be so easy…

The first lady I met was wondering what I would be doing. She was clearly uncomfortable without a clear understanding of what I would be teaching her. And, she was clear that I was to start class at 1:30, but the room was empty. My thoughts started –gulp.  Is this worth it? Can I do this? The theme I thought I could hold for the hour class was a simple exercise of working with yellow. I thought that I could have them just put a faint yellow on the paper and once dry, applying a darker shade gradually working on getting darker and darker yellow veils. How could I keep her attention? Who else would be coming?

Anyway, soon they started arriving–one unassisted, one with a walker and the rest in wheelchairs. As they came close to the table they came with their stories– ”I was once an art teacher.”  “Yes”, the others chimed in, “she taught here for 20 years”. “Well, maybe not 20 years”. And, then I learned one lady had over 200 architectural drawings.

The wheelchairs would bump the table and they would help each other to get settled and comfortable. I’m not sure I was prepared for the variety of abilities in front of me. The challenges of getting older include troubles with eyesight, holding a brush with trembling hands, sore bodies in chairs, and dwindling attention spans and/or comments like “I’m done” or “I’m bored with yellow–what other colors do you have” kept me on my toes and trying to meet everyone’s needs.

I was wondering if they should know that I never had an art class in school and that my painting has come from being a student in 5 day immersions with an incredible teacher over the last 7 years. I have just been focused on color play and asking for help along the way. I never told them. I’m not sure they needed to know. What really mattered to me was at the end of our time together I heard some faint–”well that was fun” and “I could come back again”.

I take that as a moment or two well worth my time!