I am an artist. I dance, I sing. I create. My brain easily goes to this functions. I look at the world through artist’s eyes. How is that made? Can I recreate it? What can I make with these colors, this fabric, this theme? How can I decorate this room? Doesn’t this fabric drape nicely over this window? Look at the petals on this flower, how the colors bleed together.
But math. Math is like banging my head against a brick wall; like chiseling away at a 100 story building one brick at a time. And, looking up, realize how much more there is to do, such a ways to go.
It’s painful. My brain hurts. My head spins. My gut wrenches. Push through, push through, over, under, around and find a way. With practice, you’ll get better. A meager understanding, a glimmer of recognition. A tiny particle of knowledge that looks familiar. Aha! One more step in the process. Of course, I’m only at step 2 and there are at least 7 more steps to go.
It’s a maze, really. Confusing. At the crossroads, which way to go? Which set of tools to use next? Which computation will lead to the correct answer? The one right way to go. Nada, a block. Blank. Confusion. A guess, a gamble. But not recognition, not knowledge, not sure-footedness. Rather, a timid step forward, hoping it will all fall into place. Hoping for an opening, a guiding light, a sudden insight.
Hoping to break down the wall with a wrecking ball rather than a chisel.