How To Make A Portrait Of A Bird
How To Make A Portrait Of A Bird
(AKA: How to Make a Piece of Art)
Hey y’all,
I’m finally back to my desk this morning after a week of snow, ice, and school cancellations! Overall, we got almost 10 inches of snow which made for some nice snowballs, snowmen, and sledding. We drank hot chocolate, made cookies, and watched Minions more times than I care to admit. So, it was a fun week, but also draining and I’m happy to be back in my studio writing and drawing.
Every week Butterbean and I go to the library and pick out new books to read. Last week (before all the snow!) she picked out How to Paint the Portrait of a Bird. This book is based on a poem by Jacques Prevert (listed as the author), and translated and illustrated by Mordicai Gerstein.
And by the way, before you go thinking Butterbean has impressive taste in books for a four-year-old… she has also been on a Marvel book binge, reading books about the X-Men and the Avengers over and over and over, with me cringing inside at every page. But I try to hold to the philosophy that I shouldn’t deny her (or judge) the books she wants to read. Reading is reading and reading is good!
Anyways, back to the book at hand.
How To Make A Portrait Of A Bird
(AKA: How to Make a Piece of Art)
I wasn’t sure what to expect with How to Paint the Portrait of a Bird, but it thoroughly surprised and delighted me. The story is loosely about a boy attempting to paint a bird but goes much deeper than technical instructions—at its heart, it is a book about the creative process. It’s a story of an artist finding and following their inspiration to create a piece of art.
The book begins with a boy sleeping in bed when he wakes up to a bird singing in his window. He runs out and returns with a canvas and paints. I see these first few pages as the Inspiration stage of the creative process. The boy glimpses a glimmer of an idea (the bird) and is inspired to try to capture it on canvas.
The book then instructs the boy to “first paint a cage with an open door”. After also drawing a bowl of bird seed in the cage, the book says, “Then take the picture to a garden… or a park… or a forest.”
Next, “Put the picture under a tree. Hide behind the tree. Don’t speak. Don’t move.” Here, I see the Exploration part of the creative process. This is where the idea needs to be nailed down, narrowed down, and found. What is the idea really? How is this idea different than other ideas? How will he proceed in turning the idea into art?
It’s interesting here, that the book tells the boy to hide and not speak to attract and capture the idea. It’s that idea again, that we have to get out of our own way to discover the artwork that wants to be made. We have to silence our self-critical voice, get out of our head, open our minds, and enter a new way of thinking to be able to hear and see something new.
And that can take a long time.
The book states, “Sometimes the bird comes quickly. But it can just as well take years before deciding. If the bird doesn’t come right away, don’t be discouraged. Wait. Wait years if necessary.” And the boy waits. Through night and day, seasons and storms, he patiently waits. This shows the unpredictability and the frustration of the Exploration part of the creative process.
After portraying the boy as an old man surrounded by spider webs, the bird begins to move. The book says, “When the bird comes, if it comes, remain absolutely silent.” Again, that idea of opening our mind, setting aside our agendas and desires, and instead listening for what the idea is trying to say.
Once the bird flies into the cage, “gently close the door with your brush.” Then the book says to erase the cage and paint a tree, “with the prettiest branch for the bird.”
“Paint the green leaves and the summer breeze. Paint the smell of the sunshine and the flowers, and the songs of the bees and the butterflies.” The boy has now entered the Creation phase of the creative process.
The boy has discovered the idea and heard what it wants to say. He is now no longer silent: he sets to work giving a voice to the idea, translating it’s message to paint and canvas.
He is deep in the zone, painting not only colors and shapes (green leaves, flowers, and butterflies), but also sensations (the summer breeze and the songs of bees) and perhaps most importantly, feelings (the smell of sunshine). How does one paint the smell of sunshine? It’s something that cannot be described in words, but don’t you think the illustrator has captured it in the painting above? The boy is surrounded by the idea, living and breathing in the idea, touching and feeling the idea, allowing the idea to speak through his brush.
But sometimes, after the ecstasy of the Creation phase wears off, and we return to the real world, we realize what we created was… not so good after all. Sometimes we get lost. We lose sight of the idea or we allow our own desires and judgemental nature to take hold. The book says, “Then wait for the bird to sing. If it doesn’t sing, don’t be sad. You did your best.”
This is where the boy enters the Valley phase of the creative process. He made it past the initial inspiration and excitement of beginning a new piece of art. But now here he is in the middle of it, and the bird still is not singing. He thought he was making progress, but now he’s not so sure. He doesn’t feel the painting is complete or good, and he has no idea what to do about it. Does he quit? Does he start over? Was it a bad idea all along? There is no solid answer.
But sometimes, if a good idea was there in the beginning, and if we can listen to it carefully, and follow it faithfully, and get ourselves out of our own way…
Well, sometimes the bird sings.
And the transcendent bliss of hearing your idea sing cannot be overstated. The idea you created from not only colors, lines, and shapes, but also sensations, feelings, and experience. You’ve pulled something from the immaterial world to the material world and given it life. You have created a piece of art.
As the book says, “If the bird sings, it’s a very good sign.”
The book ends with the boy carrying the painting back to his room. He hangs the canvas up and falls asleep with a contented smile on his face. Once he’s asleep, the bird flies off the canvas and out the window: “Tomorrow you can paint another one.” And the next day, the creative process begins again.
The Search for Birdsong
How to Paint the Portait of a Bird is truly a lovely book, and if you’re a parent to a little one, I highly recommend checking it out.
The Kirkus review of sums the book up well: “…depicts artistic endurance as the boy waits through passing seasons for his bird to come. With irresistible wit, this makes its point that, with dedication, art and creativity are infinitely renewable.”
Making art is hard. More importantly than skill or technique, the creative process requires endurance and dedication, persistence and patience. It takes a lot out of us to create a piece of art. But if we can stick with it, the creative process gives back to us more than it takes.
Every day I make a piece of art is a good day, even on the rainy days when I feel covered in spider cobwebs. The infinite search for birdsong is as good a purpose as I’ve found.
Thanks for reading!
<3,
Christine
Oh my goodness, that's extraordinary. Wow. Thanks so much for sharing. A superb book and a joyous reading session!! Happy sigh.
Good drowning I like it