Wednesday, March 7, 2012


Yeah. So one of our art projects in high school was a self portrait. One of Dad's large tasks of late has been cleaning out his house a bit. One of the things Mom had been storing for...oh...24 years or so...are these hilarious self portraits.
My sweet sister. A little bit gummy, and with alien eyes, but I can see it.
Me. OK, this story isn't terribly PC. But after we did our drawrings, we had to tack them to the wall and the class had to stand around and critique them. When we got to mine, everyone said "really good shirt." "Yeah, the shirt is really good." Then, after a long pause, Eric B. said, with all the confidence and innocence of a small town 16 year old, said "It actually looks like the artist, if the artist had Down Syndrome." Silence fell over the class. Then, shrieks of laughter.

Sister and I put them on display for my husband's enjoyment. 
He was awash with so many emotions in such a short period of time.
Fear being one of them.
No question as to why I knew early on, that this was the art critic for me.


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