This is not who I am

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This is not who I am, I thought, as I walked into an art class. I hadn’t even *thought* about art for many years. 

Many many years. 

A few weeks earlier I’d dropped off one of my kids to an art class. “I’m so jealous,” I said. “I wish I was taking art classes.” Because, you know, motivate your kids and make them feel / guilt-trip them into feeling that these art classes are worthwhile and awesome. 

But my kid gave me that withering, slightly-disdainful look that all pre-teens master, and replied back, “well, why don’t you?”

And I had no answer. 

I’d never seen myself as especially artistic. I spent my adult life (so far, not done yet) doing "serious" stuff: IDF, government work, Jewish nonprofit work. 

I loved it all and it all gave me meaning and inspiration and purpose. 

But there was this one moment a year or so earlier. I was in the Yad Vashem Holocaust Art Museum on a tour, and found the work of Carol Deutsch. A Belgian-born artist, Deutsch created a beautifully illustrated Bible for his infant daughter depicting biblical scenes and heroines. You can see examples of his Bible, which he kept in a wooden box that he designed. And I had that in the back of my mind too: create something, leave a legacy. 

So I started taking art classes. Mostly drawing. With some other creative stuff here and there.