A Lesson from the Etch-a-Sketch

   Years ago, I was sick and spent a couple weeks in a hospital. When the little cart came by with magazines and books to borrow, I was drawn to the Etch-a-Sketch on the bottom shelf and asked if I could borrow that instead. I hadn't picked up one since childhood, but I spent many, many hours over the next few days getting the hang of it again and finding an artistic challenge within that red box.

   I found I got an immense amount of satisfaction out of making those baby steps go up and then back down. Once I figured out the up/down and left/right with the knobs, I automatically started trying harder things, like circles and my name in cursive. I had to stop to smile, giggle a bit, then grunt in frustration, and stop to shake the crazy thing a bunch of times along the way.  But I was one of the weird people that stuck with it. Within days, the shapes became realistic pictures. I'd sit back and stare for a moment, find every flaw and place I should have improved it, but I eventually became brave enough to share. I soon had nurses and other patients looking over my shoulder offering advice :) and asking what was my next one going to be like.

   Over the next couple years, I tried to go from simple to more complex drawings and illustrations. I studied the artwork of Etch's great George Vlosich III and others to gain hints to the craft.  I improved and sold a few. I donated a couple in charity auctions. I gave many away to friends and one year every student in my class got one if they just brought an Etch-a-Sketch in with a picture they wanted on it.  I found myself very busy on weekends doing sketches of their pet dogs, school mascots, and even Hannah Montana. I don't get the toy out much any more unless it's for some overdue relaxation or a special gift. I always have one close by, though.

   Some days, as I work and dream of the future of my school and community,  I feel like I'm back to those first sketching days again.  I'm taking my baby steps and figuring out which directions to go. I see that the path isn't going where I think it should and I have to stop, shake it and start all over again. Then there are times when the picture becomes a bit clearer, and I keep going. Something exciting develops. I sit back, evaluate, and sometimes become brave enough to share a bit of the vision with those close to me.

   I find it incredibly exciting when they want to know what is coming next and they want to help describe what the final picture may look like.