But I Love That

Last week I was packing up to move. In the process I am once again going through ALL my things. All the things I’ve saved for forty-six years of my life that I may or may not use. At one point I treasured each bobble. I’ve found memories and moths. I’m ashamed of some of the things I’ve carted around the country for nothing but sentimentality in wasted space. There are some I’m thankful I've collected.

I bravely faced my high school art collection yesterday and found that I remembered each work. They all held value to me, whether as practice or in emotion. Some were Mark Rothkos. Others were trash. For years I have said I should put on an art show. Just one, to showcase my work while there. High school art may have been a joke to many, but for me it was the invaluable place where I found the freedom to try and fail with grace. It was playing for playing’s sake, discovering who I was.

I found so much emotion and beauty in the world and felt I was able to ride that wave into my art. My teachers were phenomenal, putting tools in my hand that I didn’t know existed. They were encouraging and sharp as carving knives when it came to calling my bullshit. It was a delight to re-create using the inspiration of those around me and the natural world. Art, for all of us, even if we “hate” it, reveals the state of humanity. It is telling of our tragedies and successes.

I threw away most of it. Kept a few of my favorites. I’m not sure why I thought I was such a Picasso that someone would want this stuff. But I sure did have fun. So here is a peek at my long awaited high school art show, made possible by the miracle of technological advance called the internet. You can see the rest on my Instagram.