It all started with an art project.
A "Visual Puzzle", to be precise. Meaning a maze.
For my maze I drew a giraffe, the maze leading around the spots. I was proud of my giraffe, it being one of the best animals I've ever drawn. I turned it in with pride, content with the finished product.
The next day we had a group critique. Meaning a bunch of kids that are really good at drawing tell you what's good and bad about your work. Which is fine, but they suggested I put in a background. I schemed blending colors to make a soft, single-tone background, but my art teacher said it would be cool to have a little African tree or something instead.
I then set off on my quest. I printed pictures of African trees and got to work. The next thing I knew I had a scraggly tree on top of a bunch of scribbles representing grass and a few blue streaks for the sky. It. Was. Ruined. My eyes twitched and everything ran in slow motion.
Janell came and sat by me, offering help. She started fixing the tree by adding organic lines and more shades of green than were already there. And I watched her careful strokes I began to tear up.
(FACT: When I'm really frustrated, I cry. I hate it, but it's true.)
"It was the best thing I've ever drawn until I ruined it by adding a stupid background I didn't even want," I sniffled and dodged into the bathroom to blow my nose.
Janell taught me new techniques as she guided me through the fixing of my background disaster. After a while I just needed to lay down.
(FACT: When I'm really stressed out, I lay on my back somewhere on the floor. For some reason it's always the floor. . .)
My eyes felt dry so I closed them and attempted to clear my mind. A few moments later when I was calm enough, I had one last art lesson with my beloved sister before heading off to my basement bedroom to fully relax.
The Case of the Stolen Bracelet
5 weeks ago