a kid in elementary, I would only ever spend one sitting on a drawing. By that I mean I would churn out all my energy to work on one drawing while I sat
hunched over my little desk in my room, furiously scrubbing the paper with
markers, colored pencils or whatever medium at hand. It was exhilarating to
make something; to bring to life something that had never existed before. But
it was also a half-hopeless struggle. Running up to adults to seek approval, I
knew that what I had made fell far from perfection, but I wanted recognition
for the hard work.
suppose everyone still wants recognition for something, but everyone is quieter
about it now. We all seem to wait for people to come up to us and congratulate us for
being such wonderful humans. That never happens.
To a certain extent, we still have
to ask for it. This
Saturday, I'm going to a Scholastic Arts and Writing regional awards ceremony
because I won a few prizes for some of the pieces I entered. Since I don't plan to be an
artist full time after high school, going to art award ceremonies is like playing
make believe. I can dress up nice and pretend that I've got a name in art or
something, all the while getting handed certificates and pins for making
"pretty pictures". It's exhilarating. It's like
being a kid all over again.