My appreciation for art is so-so. There are certain paintings that appeal to me for various reasons - and perhaps on a subconscious level, it is the lighting and balance and whatever other techniques are used by the artist. Usually, it is the subject of the painting. That is what I am focused on, not the colors, tones, hues or layers for example. All the detail that is put into a professional painting seems overwhelming to me and actually seems to detract from the beauty that I had seen there initially.
In college, I once took an art appreciation class - just to force myself to understand and hopefully appreciate it more. It backfired. I was so put out by the symbolic gestures and the history, it's a wonder I didn't drop the class. I would struggle with these foreign concepts and tried to apply them to whatever piece of work we were doing. I tried really hard. Or so I believed. My work and effort were below average and therefore so were my grades . . . . until one assignment that we did in crayon.
The subject was a milk can. Our instructor said to pick out all the colors that were reflecting off the milk can and underneath the surface and this and that and lighting, shades and hues and . . . my poor confused brain. I really didn't understand what he was talking about. As I wasn't doing particularly well in that class anyway, I decided to "fake" it. I got out my box of crayons and started scribbling a variety of colors over what would become my milk can. I scribbled one area with a white crayon and one with a black crayon to that when I went over the entire milk can with my grey crayon, some of it would appear lighter and some would be darkened.
I was in the midst of covering all the scribbles with my gray crayon when the teacher came around and complimented me on my good work. Was he for real? Did he really believe that I had really seen the blue, orange and green scribbles in the can? I wasn't even trying. I hated creating "art" and I just didn't even care anymore. That was the day I stopped trying to better myself in that particular class. My grade point average had gone up after that. It felt like a slap in the face, really. It didn't seem appropriate that I would receive the message: "you'll do a whole lot better if you don't try" That's not right!
I did not post last week as I had devoted so much of my time to my payroll final - which by the way, I never did finish. I did try. Boy, did I try. I burned out more hours on this one assignment than I had any other in my entire lifetime - or so it seemed. My final grade for the class came as a surprise. I was pretty certain that my instructor would not be going through each and every single answer of each and every single student. Apparently, I did enough that he did know I had at least tried (on the final, excel would not accept the wrong answer - so it was either come up with the correct answer or leave it blank)
I am more satisfied with my grade and my accomplishments that I earn. I'm not an accountant yet. I don't like numbers. I don't like business. But I do enjoy learning. I'm grateful for the opportunities I have been given that I may accomplish even more. Perhaps one day I'll actually develop a love for my "career". Right now I'm just tolerating it.
I've finished payroll and am now taking two more accounting classes. I think they will be easier than payroll. I don't know if my instructors will be as easy as my last instructor. I suppose I'll have a better understanding later this week.
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