the end.

This is the year I became an artist. Over the summer my mom encouraged me to take an art class and I was so far from into it. I had an image of myself as being too athletic for art. It didnt stretch my mind, I was always just frustrated with the disapointed with the outcome. This year really changed that for me. In all the stresses highschool brings, art class balanced it out. It was what my ideal class would be. It wasnt that I used this class to relax or waste time, of all the time I have spent in countless hours of classes in these two terms I have done the most learning and growing in this space. I love this space. Everything about it is warm (litterally and figuratively) and every corner is filled with work. There are always people in here doing something. Even when its empty you feel the presence of the art and all that art brings love to this room. We take advantage of every inch using the floor the tables the windows and hopefully some day the roof top to fuel our creativity. My story is not ending, this class has brought me to learn new skills and passions I plan on taking with me. Pencil drawing has really stayed with me, all through these two terms I have pushed my self to get better and have found I just really love it. Freshman year is about finding what your likes and dislikes are, there are plenty of ups and downs and growing experiences but for me this class has been the greatest. During plenty of study halls I would beg sarah to come up here with me to just escape the dry work we knew we had to get done down there. If my this is a story then we have only gotten to the intro. Thank you so much for a fabulous year, and I know it sounds tacky but you have really made a difference and dont think you wont see me monday (even though we dont have class)