arabera Beth Dobberstein 13 years ago
231
Honelako gehiago
Nature has inspired my art education through out my life.
Beth Dobberstein 2011
Just as the wind blows the dandelion seeds, so did the circumstances surrounding my life transfers me to 6 different cities in 3 different states. This transient time of my life prevented me from obtaining a permanent art teaching position in a public school system.
I began my love for art while observing nature, mimicking the colors, textures and patterns with crayons. Today, I continue my art education once again creating art work inspired by nature. But I am not alone, just as my mother provided me with the means to create art, I too provide opportunities for my children to join me in the great outdoors as we paint and sculpt and nuture our love for art.
Anna Kell -
Wonderful insight which kept my head nodding through out the course. Many "a-ha" moments.
Projects
I am not ready for my inspiration to dry up, wither and die. I continue be open to the fertilization of new ideas, concepts, and techniques as I pursue the journey of becoming a mighty oak with deep roots through further my art education in a UF Master's program.
With great enthusiasm, I entered college, particularly the art building. I registered for oil painting, drawing and printmaking, only to discover that I was a still a flimsy sapling surrounded by the "mighty oaks" of students who had 4 years of art class in the public schools.
The acknowledgement from a teacher has power. The praise from an art professor empowered and raised my confidence in the same manner as my elementary school teacher did when labeling me as "an artist."
Influencial Teachers
Arthur Pontynen -Art History
Inspired and appreciation for understanding not only the aesthetics but also the culture behind art.
David Hodge - Art Education
Created learning environment which excited and influenced by desire to teach art to children.
Bachelors
In 1993, I earn my Bachelor's degree in Art Education from the University of Wisconsin -OshKosh.
During my teen years my art education unfortunately was stunted. I attended a private high school where art classes were not offered. I regressed to my early childhood education of observing nature. Many of the trees and flowers growing on campus were replanted in the margins of by notebook during American History.
My mother used to paint. She claimed that she was not very good. I thought here paintings were beautiful. During my senior year of high school, she gave me her small suitcase full of oil paints. A treasure box, was my first thought. Digging in the file cabinet of my early childhood brain, I reproduced images of trees and flowers.
Trouble
After getting caught skipping chapel at boarding school, I am dormed. I am not allowed to leave the dorm all day. I spend 10 hours oil painting in my room. Created landscape. I had such a great time that it did not seem like a punishment.
I attended a private elementary school. Art class was only offered via a volunteer. I can still remember the excitment I felt upon hearing the art cart rolling down the hall. I watched with amazement as a sweet smiling woman who with the flip of the her hand created beautiful images magically on the chalk board.
Read art making and history books from library fascinated with the impressionist artists such as Monet.
My love for art continued throughout my elementary years. I can still remember when a teacher looked over my shoulder and remarked. "I think we have an artist here." Being identified as an "artist" by a teacher, nurtured my growing confidence and encourage the idea that maybe someday, I could become an artist. Interestingly, I was drawing birch trees at the time.
My early childhood years were spent in a rural town located in Menomonie, Wisconsin. Our home was located in the hills surrounding the Red Cedar River. This beautiful place featured large outcroppings of rock and rolling hills of farmlands. The woods behind my home was my playground. I spent many long summers hanging out in trees observing their shape, and textures.
In early spring, I watched with eager eyes for the first dandelion, tulip or daffodil to peek through the ground. I mentally recored their colors and patterns. Filing it away to be revisited when crayons and paper were at hand.
