I'm... drawn... (sigh)... to using basic outlines for every type of non-abstract art that I do. Perhaps I think in templates, where I start with the real shape but fill it in differently. I could have used the same outlines to draw incredibly realistic figures (maybe I should do that now as a test). However at the time I just wanted it all to be basic.
And look at me, not using "basic" as an insult. Learn this well, folks. Not everything is an opportunity to tear ourselves or others down. Basic can be delightful. Especially when you're drawn past your limit (okay I'll stop!).
It is a shame that this drawing didn't fare too well over the years. I clearly liked it, because I remember drawing it. One of the few times in my life I drew something sweet and colorful.
Like most of my drawings, it was done during class in high school. I didn't get kicked out of class for this one, which was so often the case. Teachers always seemed to believe that if I was drawing, then I wasn't paying attention. The reality is that I had already done every homework assignment that I knew about (once I did every math problem in the book in the first week), finished the book(s) for the year, and was bored out of my mind. Drawing is what made it possible for me to pay attention to something that I already knew. I did not (and do not) have Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) or Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD). But you try spending six to eight hours a day being taught something it takes you five minutes to pick up- or that you already knew. It is a wonder that I did not go completely mad.
Teachers: if you're not going to engage us, then don't be surprised if we find ways to engage ourselves.
One teacher had a pretty good strategy- he essentially made me the student teacher. Probably gave me confidence for the first time ever, but alienated me from the other students a little more. Like I needed that.
Most teachers felt that DISCIPLINE was the answer. Despite the fact that when they called on me in class I always had the answer because I truly always was quietly following along as I was drawing (sometimes I would even tell them which page in the textbook that question was from. Yes I was a super nerd). Besides, drawing for all day every day was also not that interesting. I sometimes did crossword puzzles and other activities like those. But I understand now that they felt it was a respect thing- it was an ego matter. In their minds, I was basically telling them that they were not my focus; I didn't feel they were important enough; I didn't think what they were saying was worth listening to or some absolute crap like that. I wasn't disrupting the class in any way, but because I was trying to devise a way not to fall asleep I was A Bad Girl.
I found out years later that nearly every teacher for years tried to advance me to a higher grade, but that my parents would not allow it. Despite myself, I sometimes wonder how different my life could have been if I had been encouraged and challenged instead of bored and stifled. But I don't wonder it often or purposefully, because What-Ifs are pointless and frustrating.*
Like most of my life, either something happened and it sucked, or something didn't happen and it sucks. Dwelling or focusing on it accomplishes absolutely nothing. Sure, learn from it. But spending time wishing things had gone differently just keeps you in that miserable past.
I'm not saying something bright and cheerful like "look to the future, it is bright and shiny!" No, it's probably dark and hopeless too. But at least you can influence the future. You can't do dick about the past.
* The bare but extreme exception is that I blame myself for the suffering of my poor sweet Squee. I can't escape the guilt about her final months and death, which will haunt me forever. So I am able to shrug off my past, but not when I've hurt others. I miss her more than everything. My little black heart is gone.
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