When I was a child of 9 years I visited my grandfather often.
He loved it when I drew.
One day while I was sitting with him in his garden next to his fountain he surprised me by giving me a gift of a wooden easel, a canvas, and paints. It was there while listening to bird song, and the sound of laughing water from the fountain and near my grandfather that I learned the joy of painting. In this way, my grandfather was my first teacher.
What he taught me had less to do with actual drawing and painting techniques and more to do with a love for creating. I love drawing and painting because I could share the experience with my grandfather.
And now I can share it with you.