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I never thought of myself as an artist. To this day, I draw stick men that would not get awarded an honorable mention at a kindergarten art contest. I eventually resigned to the fact that I must be a scientist because I am good at math and because I think Shakespeare’s writing is boring. I always thought that these two qualities (good at math and bored by Shakespeare) thrust me into an inevitable life of crunching numbers and talking about graphing calculators for eternity.

I recently realized, however, that I AM an artist. I am an artist because I love to create. I used to think an artist had to be somebody who had a canvas and a set of expensive water colors and oils. But creating art on canvas is not the only way to create art. My body desires to create things, and because I desire and choose to create, I am an artist.

It took me awhile to figure out what my medium of art actually is. If I am terrible at creating paintings and drawings, what exactly do I create artistically?

I have several mediums of art, but my favorite to experience is my writing. I realized that my writing (both on this blog, and in my math book, and in my personal writings) is a poignant medium by which I can create, and I truly love the process of creating via writing.

When I create, I am on fire. Sometimes, when I am writing a blog post (like this one), I am hungry and thirsty and I have to go to the bathroom, but I can’t get up. I have to write. I have to re-read and revise. Even though the faucet is only 10 feet away, I don’t want to get up. I am absorbed in the moment. This happens sometimes when I am creating a lesson plan, when I’m creating a new PowerPoint presentation, or when I’m reading a great book and getting new ideas. When I am absorbed in the act of creation, nothing else really matters. This, I think, makes me an artist: not just the desire to create, but the intensity of the moment in which I am creating and expressing my soul. To you, this is just another website that you are reading. For me, it is a channel through which I can create something. This is my work of art.

When I create, I am also occasionally bored. Sometimes, I am not on fire. My mind is fizzling. I don’t want to read, I abhor the thought of sitting down and writing, I don’t want to do anything. The work is boring. I am in a slump. But this is still part of the creative process. I have to struggle through these slumps, these low moments where there is not much firing, and continue with my creation. Raising a child is more than birthday cakes and football games, and creating a work of art is more than good ideas and a drinking a hot cup of coffee. It takes both the struggle and the joy to create a true piece of art.

You can learn things by analyzing your art. One thing that I have realized about my art: I am concerned about functionality. All of my art has functionality as a concern. Ok, blame that on the math/science background, but just because my art is actually useful doesn’t prevent it from being art. My bookcases and books are arranged in a way to make them functional. My writing is structured, not poetic. My website is user-friendly, not flashy. All of my art is functional.

My art is also simple. My art doesn’t involve a whole lot of complexity and abstraction. Perhaps this is a way for my soul to express its resentment for complex art. Or perhaps it is a sub-conscious reaction to receiving a D- on a paper for my college English class in which I had to reflect on a recent trip to the Art Museum. We had to look at all of this “modern art” that I thought was pretty lame, and in my paper I wrote that “The art in the lower gallery evoked feelings similar to looking at my own poop in the toilet, and then realizing that I needed to flush it because it is just weird to look at your own poop.” Regardless of the psychological under-pinnings for this disregard for complexity and artistic snobbery, the fact remains that my art is simple.

I am also an artist because I appreciate art. I love to read. I am moved by paintings. I think the book of Psalms is the most beautiful book in the Bible. My heart literally hurts when I hear certain artists play the piano. I value some ideas and experiences more than food (Again, this is in a very literal sense. My mind sometimes overrides my hunger, and I crave not to fulfill my hunger, but to experience and analyze some thought or idea. I think any entrepreneur can relate to this. When I thought of the idea to start my business, I couldn’t eat or sleep very well for weeks, and yet physically I was in perfect health. My body was running on the ideas in my head, not the calories in my stomach.)

I used to do a terrible job of encouraging art in my classroom. This was, of course, because I thought of myself as a terrible artist. Now I know better. Now I encourage art whenever I encourage a student to engage in the act of creation. And one of the greatest things that I enjoy watching my students create is new neural networks in their brains (a.k.a. “learning”).

Learning is a very creative process, and therefore, learning is an art. Saying that there are “different learning styles” is the same as saying there are different types of artists. Every artist creates in a unique style and manner, and therefore every learner will construct information and extend its applications in a unique style and manner. Every artist is different, and therefore every student is different.

To learn is to create, and to create is to be an artist.

I have no idea how you can learn and NOT be an artist.