I remembered something as I was talking/hanging out with the ex last night..
I used to draw.
I used to draw constantly and excessively.
Holy crap, man.. My dream of being an eccentric painter in a loft in NYC is not so far-fetched after all..
I only used to draw faces.. But the point is I used to draw. Maybe they weren't very good.. but I was in elementary/middle school at the time.
I used to study faces. Study the lines and curves and shadows. I used to study my own face extensively especially. For that reason, no one can ever surprise me when they make some random comment about my face. I know everything that's there.
For instance, the ex [who I'll call "Big M", since he's more than an "ex"--he's a friend.], he commented that my nose is crooked. And that's what started this whole thought process and got me back to remembering. I know my nose is crooked. I also know the exact ways that my face is asymmetrical. Just like most people's faces are. I know that one cheek is flatter than the other. I know that my right side is my good side..
My grandmother has a 3-way, or 3-planed mirror in her laundry room over the big wash basin. However, you describe it.. It has a flat mirror in the middle, and then two sides that come out and can be adjusted. And with that, I used to study and study and study my profiles. I had to know how to draw a face.
And I don't even know why I used to draw faces all the time. It just had to come out. It was just something I did. I never really thought about it.. At that time, elementary/middle school.. I just wanted to be a writer. That's all I wanted to be.
I'm thinking now.. Maybe I should still be a writer. Wouldn't that be a nice job..? None of the office droan and waking up in the wee hours of the morning. Shit, I dislike waking up in the morning, period. I'd rather wake up in the afternoon, if I had my choice. People do weird things in the morning.. Like, say "good morning" to each other. That literally caught me off guard one day when I started getting into work at 9am. I'm just used to the usual greeting of "hello"... but "good morning"..? Hrm. The things you forget when you get caught up in your own little world..
But anyway.. back to middle school. I know I probably described this scene already in my diary somewhere.. but it was sixth grade, Mrs. Pano's class. I really liked Mrs.Pano, by the way. She was young and had bright red [or orange, to me] hair. She picked me up from my house one Saturday to attend the second day of a Youth Writer's Conference. I was recognized in my class then as being "the writer." In a class of 30 people, certain talents stand out and you get known for them.
Just like there was one guy who was known as "the artist." His name was Patrick Newbill. I had a crush on him for probably three years, or something like that. And then one day in sixth grade.. Mrs. Pano decided to do this crazy activity one day.. Where she would pick 5 people to sit up in front of the class, and she would go through each person, asking people to raise their hands and say something nice about them.
When it got to me, I remember Patrick saying that I draw faces really well. And, coming from him, that was the best compliment he could've given me. Others said more, but I barely remember what else.. But I was just so surprised that so many people had such nice things to say about me.. Me, the quiet, shy girl who sits in a corner and rarely talks... I wasn't used to such attention and compliments that I started shaking.. my jaw was shaking, convulsing.. and I think my teeth might've started chattering.. More people had their hands raised with nice things to say about me, but Mrs. Pano moved on to the next person...
I was so different then.. Obviously, I know, but... Just thinking about it.. I never had a bad thing to think about anybody. I thought of myself as the observer.. Just watching everyone.. And I'd see things or notice things before they would, because they were all caught up in being chatty and not paying attention to things..
But I paid attention to everything. Not like now.. where I overlook, try to block out everything I see.. because it's too much.. heh..
I had such high hopes..
So what happened to me...?
Well.. first, my father died.
I think that just brought about... a legacy of silence inside my world. My seventh grade english teacher encouraged me, the writer, to write about what I'm feeling and what I'm going through..
But I couldn't.
There wasn't anything to say.
...
Second, my family got a computer. That started a very bad habit in me, I think. Getting addicted to the internet trashes your brain, I think. Eats up your life and what little time you have. Just like TV. I'm amazed when I hear about people going out and doing things... And then I remember that yeah, if I didn't have TV and internet to distract me, I guess I'd probably be going out and doing things, drawing, whatever, too...
LJ