When I was a kid, my art teacher banned erasers, so I learned to draw without them. I wonder now, if she had a deeper reason for teaching us to make "mistakes" into "happy accidents".
She was a very good teacher...
Now I am adult, if I need an eraser, it's a warning sign that I'm compromising my integrity, by not expressing myself freely. I'm pernickety & pedantic and secretly, I feel cheated out of my own creative experience. My effort to resolve the work unappreciated, I feel manipulated into having to produce something "perfect' for the rest of the world's to approval, instead of birthing something new with a life of its own, that I will love, imperfections & all, knowing the secret struggle we shared....
There is a tenderness between the artist and the piece of work which has struggled to be born. Erasers, in a quest for perfection, can wipe away the unintended lines that reveal & respect the intrinsic character of the work....
And metaphorical erasers can disregard the private tenderness between a person creating their life, & the life they are creating that is known only to them,
" happy accidents" & all.
Yep, she was a very good teacher....
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