Thursday, October 13, 2011

a dream

When I was little, I used to play school. I wrote down math lesson plans. I think I got my little brother to play with me, but mostly, I just wrote down lesson plans and put them in a box. The truth is, even though I ended up being a writer girl, I love math. I love it! geometry makes me swoon. Anyways, I dreamed of being a teacher. Dreamed! I also wanted to be an artist, but I never really told anyone about that because obviously I wasn't Picasso.

Today, I was gluing photopolymer plates to a metal base. I was just standing there thinking: How did I get here?

My 3rd grade teacher gave me the most prolific writer award, I took art in 8th grade, I took drawing and ceramics my freshman year. I took another art class in the tenth grade. I took a drawing class the summer after I finished my first year of college. I mean. I wasn't good at it. But, I loved it. One day, I don't even remember when, my dad told me I should take a creative writing class. So I did. Then I took a couple more. Then, my cousin told me to take Dr. Sowell's Dante class. One day while in his office talking about a paper, he asked me what I wanted to do with my life. I said, Well, I want to teach. He said, You should go to graduate school—you can teach college. So, I kept working in that class, and even after I turned in a horrendous paper where I accidentally repeated page 3 on page 7, he said, It's okay, you're still a good student, you should still apply to grad school. 

So that's mainly how I got here—in a studio, with a mound of very expensive paper and photopolymer plates made from butterfly-wing scans and gorgeous cans of ink I get to mix into any color I want.

 
I don't mean to be nonchalant. I just want to take a serious minute, and thank Ms. Casado—wherever she is. She was my 2nd and 3rd grade teacher. She let me help her organize our classroom. We only had 16 students and met in the music room/closet. She did very small things, that made me feel smart. 
And, my dad for mentioning a writing class. And Sally for telling me I should take the Dante class. And Dr. Sowell for believing in me when I was unconscious about my life.
Really, I just want to say, that it was off-handed, sincere comments that got me here. And I'm so grateful, and so happy. You have no idea the good you can do by believing in someone. By telling them. 

I never imagined when I was 7, that I'd be gluing photopolymer plates on flatbed press, but I feel like its a miracle.

3 comments:

  1. I love this topic. About how saying something inconsequential to someone can actually be very consequential in such a good way! Also, I want you to make art for my home someday.

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  2. I think about this same thing sometimes; I'm suddenly in the middle of an amazing life that is so much better than I ever could have planned.

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  3. Gorgeous! your butterfly prints, your writing, the way you've found your path to something so lovely and the way you remember the people who have helped you along the way, the little things that make all the difference-- I love it!

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