I recently had a chance to talk on the phone with an old high school friend who was an extremely talented artist. Paul (not his real name) took a few college courses, none of them in art, but dropped out before getting any degree.

I have vivid memories of glancing over during high school classes to see Paul doing something he did extremely well: drawing. He used a standard #2 pencil to do his magic. He cranked out dozens of expressive and lifelike bodies, faces, and hands. He did his work on the backs of class handouts, envelopes or any other scrap of paper he could get his hands on. I know I’m not exaggerating Paul’s abilities, because I’ve saved dozens of his drawings. The hands Paul drew might have been his best work. I remember Paul drawing, from memory, a vivid Sistine Chapel reproduction of God’s hand reaching out to touch Adam’s.

After the bell would ring, students would sometimes gather around Paul to see what he had been drawing. I can’t count the number of times that students would ask him how he did what he did. Paul was reluctant to discuss how. Maybe he didn’t understand how. His approach was to show, not tell.

Paul failed to pursue art in college. After struggling through general liberal arts classes for a few years, he dropped out of college to take jobs involving manual labor. He has always been a diligent worker, but his jobs have never really challenged …