For the past several years, my easel has sat in the corner of my room like a prop. I’ve given it a good dusting every couple of weeks and thought: I really should start painting again.

As a kid, I loved to paint. Early on, I bypassed the standard-issue Crayola watercolors and instead asked for canvas and a set of acrylics. My first “real” painting was of Hiawatha paddling his canoe across a very wavy Lake Superior. (My parents had a book of classic poems they read to us when we were young. One of my favorites was Longfellow’s “The Song of Hiawatha.” To give some perspective though, one of my other favorite poems at the time was “Rolling Harvey Down the Hill.” I guess Hiawatha made for a better subject.)

I continued painting as a hobby until college. I never aspired to “be a painter.” I painted because it made me happy. In college, things that make you happy can often take a backseat to “things that will someday get you a job.” Painting was like that for me. Once I decided to major in journalism and history instead of art, I stopped painting. Nonetheless, my neglected easel has followed me through life like a pair of old shoes I can’t give up.

A few months ago, I decided I wanted to start painting again. But pretty wall art isn’t my goal. To compare it to learning a new language, I want to do more than learn a few key phrases from the painting phrasebook. I want to understand painting. I want to think and speak in paint. Fluency is what I’m after.

This requires help of course. Through a slightly complicated set of circumstances, I found a painting instructor. After our first meeting, I knew I had found what I needed: direction, information, and most importantly, deadlines. (Which can be very helpful when I’m tempted to spend my free time mindlessly combing the internet instead of painting something.)

My instructor and I have met a few times and have plans to meet a couple of times a month. I’ll be sharing what I learn here. It’ll help me process what I’m learning and maybe someone else will find the information helpful. It’s been a fun experience so far but also frustrating. Fluency is a long way off.

I was working on a painting earlier this week and unfortunately it’s in its awkward adolescent stage. I spent a good chunk of time pushing around green and yellow paint with a palette knife trying to make it look like something. Right now, even after all my efforts, it still looks like green and yellow paint smeared on canvas. Not grass. Not sunlight and shadow. Not yet.