The Practice of about Art
By Leonard Wallace Robinson, first published in The Saturday Evening Post
An aspiring poet who hones his craft through hard practice experiences an unexpected setback when his younger cousin undermines his belief that skilled art-making requires time and effort.
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Plot Summary
Jack enjoys himself while simultaneously chopping wood and making up poetry on the fly. To exercise his poetic sense of rhythm and beats, he tasks himself with a certain meter and comes up with a random subject to make up lines about. Like his poetry Professor Drum said, practice had removed all his previous difficulty in improvising, and he delights in how easily and naturally the words came to him now. While continuing his wood chopping, a cherubic-looking, eleven or twelve-year-old boy approaches him. Jack does not recognize him at first, but it is his cousin Guy, who has always been a bit sickly. He has started to recover and only needs to keep up with hand exercises, such as drawing and writing. One of Guy’s drawings slip from his notebook, and Jack is shocked to see how elegant and well-done it is. He compliments the drawing, and Guy says that it is not his best one. Believing that his cousin has actually traced another famous drawing, Jack decides not to correct him about lying and claiming another drawing as his own. Guy asks Jack about what he was reciting earlier, and Jack explains that he was practicing poetry and starts teaching him about different meters. He is delighted by Guy’s quick and sensitive ear to different poetic rhythms. He tasks Guy to write a poem with meter and takes it as a moment to teach Guy that art takes practice. Guy remarks that drawing took no practice, and Jack confronts him about tracing the drawing he saw. Guy takes Jack’s mistake as a compliment and shows Jack the rest of his drawings to prove that he did not trace anything. Jack is shocked by Guy’s beautiful drawings and effortless talent, and he apologizes for not believing him previously. When Guy leaves to work on his poem, Jack continues chopping his wood, but now with a sense of great despair. He does not make up lines anymore and only stops to check if his cousin has finished his poem.
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