An Education
The Drawing Lesson
Jan Steen (Dutch, 1626 - 1679)
In molding years I enrolled,
Degrees of interest shared and aligned.
A teacher older in years and mind,
Neither sought friend of another kind.
Such was I to become your pupil,
Naivete chose not an equal;
In critiques and analysis I learned and wept,
Lessons paid with identity webbed.
In halting stages progress made,
More and more days spent in shade.
Under the roof shelter found,
Kinship and bond surround.
You taught in ways you knew how,
Brushstrokes we shared a similar style;
In logic and insight you professed,
In feeling and passion I confessed.
Fire within burned brighter fueled,
By crossroads faced and a die rolled.
Spontaneity declined content;
Stability framed in extent.
Thus comfort and routine left behind,
The student master yet to find.
Teacher I too became,
For a future without restrain.
But days of beginning to end remembered,
A child no longer, sensible and tempered.
The lessons that shaped my art,
Gave rise to a thoughtful heart.
Through years under I am the sum,
Of you and growth and knowledge become.
From girl to woman grown,
A past, present, future of my own.