Why I’ve Decided to Teach

Egg Basket (sculpture, 2007; photo by Greg Mullin)

In a previous life, my art medium was tiny seed beads, which I wove with needle and thread into small sculptures and jewelry. Although I sold some of my work, a much larger part of my income came from teaching my original jewelry designs and beadwork techniques at a local bead shop and national bead shows. Unlike selling work, which required developing gallery relationships, competing for juried shows and promoting exhibits, I thoroughly enjoyed teaching. While it still took time and energy to create designs, develop instructions, and interact with students, teaching fed my artistic life in a way that felt like I was sharing with my community.

When I began sketching eight years ago, I had no intention to eventually sell my work. I had decided from the beginning that my adventures in learning to draw would be nothing more than a creative exploration. I wanted no financial pressure or motivation. I had no interest in spending the time and energy required to support the act of selling. (I still feel that way.)

Teaching, on the other hand, was different. Without the financial motivation I had when I was younger, teaching could still be rewarding and creatively interactive. Although I knew I had a long way to go before I’d be ready to teach anything related to drawing, I kept the idea tucked in the way-back of my mind.

Hunter's Moon (necklace, 2005; photo by Greg Mullin)

In the last couple of years, I’ve thought more actively about teaching, especially since Urban Sketchers Seattle began sponsoring workshops. Was I ready? Do I know anything that others might want to learn? What business do I have offering to teach when I still have so much to learn myself? It was easy to procrastinate for another year, telling myself I wasn’t ready.

In early January, I learned that Paula Ensign had passed away (here’s her obituary). Known for her exquisite ink drawings and unique watercolor style, the Bainbridge Island artist and urban sketcher had intended to teach in the Seattle USk 10x10 Workshop Program last year, but illness forced her to withdraw. We had hoped that she would recover and teach in 2020, and I was still looking forward to an opportunity to learn from her. Shocked by the news of her death and saddened that there would be no more beautiful paintings from her, my next thought was utterly selfish: I would now never have the opportunity to take her workshops.

Although I didn’t know Paula well, her death shook me in an unexpected way. It suddenly occurred to me that if I feel compelled to learn from someone, I should do it, because that opportunity may not always be there. At the same time, if I have something to share that others might want to learn, I should not hesitate (or procrastinate) to teach it.

Web of My Clavicle (necklace, 2004; photo by Roger Schreiber)

The same day, just as these thoughts weighed heavily on my mind and heart, a former student from my beadwork days posted a quotation on Facebook about personal expression and creativity. Tagging me on the post, she wrote, “My friend and beading teacher, Tina Koyama, taught me to think outside the box. Still working on breaking those old habits! This is for you, Tina!” I was moved that my inspiration all those years ago had stayed with her.

I won’t procrastinate any longer. This summer I’m offering a workshop in USk Seattle’s 10x10 program: “Urban Sketching with Watercolor Pencils.” I still have plenty to learn – about watercolor pencils, about urban sketching – heck, about everything. But I’ve decided it’s not too soon to share whatever I know now. In memory of Paula.

Registration information is on the USk Seattle blog.