Life Story: Chapter Fifty Four

Welcome to a series of stories that basically make up my autobiography. It’s not entirely thorough, but I’ll do the best I can with the memories locked away inside my head. Could be therapeutic for me. Could be humorous for you. Either way, enjoy…

Previously on Life Story… I started my oh so exciting senior year of high school. It was oh so exciting.

Hey, remember in my last post how I said I took Drawing II and Painting as extra electives senior year? You probably don’t, but that’s okay. That’s why I put the link in the first paragraph. Anyway, I sort of lied. I took those two classes during my junior year. I told you that high school was just a blur, get off my back about it!

So I’m gonna have to flashback to those junior year electives. Not that Drawing II and Painting were so interesting that they deserve an entire blog post about them. Maybe they were, I just can’t remember much about them. But I’m gonna give this a shot.

I had taken Drawing I during my freshman year. It was one of those early morning classes that you get to school for while it’s still dark outside. Maybe that just means they made us come to school way too early. It would explain why my memory of that particular class is so fuzzy. Doesn’t explain why the rest of high school is fuzzy.

Sidebar: it occurs to me that all my mentions of high school being a blur may make readers believe that I was into alcohol or drugs during those years. Let me assure you, I wasn’t. I never have been. I really did just try to block a lot of high school out of my mind.

Anyway, I did enjoy the art classes I took. And I’m pretty sure Drawing II in that first semester was just a means to an end. It was a prerequisite for the Painting class in the next semester. Not that I wanted to be this profound painter or anything. I just wanted to give it a shot. After all, I had done drawing, sculpting, and photography, why not try to paint something as well?

Painting was an interesting class. So much to learn about the way colors mix together. And I’m not just talking about the primary and secondary colors. Turns out there are tertiary colors, too. Did I just blow your mind? Dude, go check out a color wheel. It’ll change your world.

Mrs. Wood had a student teacher that semester. I wish I could remember her name, but again, blur. The only thing I remember for sure about her was that she was gorgeous. In all my years of being a student in Roanoke City Public Schools, she was the only teacher I ever had a crush on. And I know she was just a student teacher, but she was a teacher nonetheless.

I didn’t just like her because she was hot. I mean, I was 16, so the fact that she was hot was a big part of it. But she pretended to be interested in the stuff I was doing in class. Once, she complimented my haircut. I don’t think that’s a requirement for teacher licensure. If it is, she did a good job with the flirting.

Okay, really, I could have just been assuming she was flirting because I wanted her to flirt with me. She probably had six years on me, so asking her to the prom would have been out of the question. But I will say that Painting was a lot more interesting when she was giving the lesson.Illustrations - Bob Ross


4 thoughts on “Life Story: Chapter Fifty Four

  1. Sometimes complimenting someone’s haircut is simply that- a compliment, with no hidden agenda or underlying meaning, particularly coming from someone who notices aesthetics because of her interest in art. Just a thought.


  2. Here’s a tip for future writing of one’s autobiography. Write while the crap is still fresh in your mind, even if it’s a bad time. But, make notes at least once every dozen years or so. A good system might be to make yearly notes before New Year’s. I wrote my first autobio’ when I was fresh out of high school so I would not suffer the pitfalls of aging and forget some of the ripe emotions I felt in my youthful moments. Of course, I kinda embellished stories a bit by turning people into Wonderland-ish characters instead of just telling what happened in plain form. But, I can reread those chapters and still picture those people. My next autobio’ is not so colorful and possibly even more depressing… But, get it down while it’s fresh. Some people keep journals. I couldn’t stick with that. So, I cut the task down a bit.


  3. I learned all about the color wheel. But, what I did not learn was how house paint can have yellow and blue reds. What the heck does that even mean? A red with a yellow base? It’s a primary color! And, colors that correspond to sounds, like colors of songs or voices. I know nothing of that.

    I would have taken up painting long ago had my first attempts gone better. I had one lousy experience and let it sour my interest. Someday, I plan on investing in the whole “kaboodle” and just going to town with the stuff even if I ruin my paints and tools. I am just dying to break open some paints and paint my heart out on a big canvas. Maybe I’ll discover a skill in there somewhere.

    I’ve had crushes on teachers since third grade. Thus, my first teacher crush was my third grade teacher. 😀 Then, there was my sixth grade teacher who just happened to be a babysitter I had long before. There may have been others between then and high school. But, I clearly remember my senior year Spanish teacher who another guy and I both thought was sexy though petite. It was rare to find a teacher shorter than me and one not much older. She was maybe 22 at the time, 4 years older. She was sweet like honey with hair to match. Oh, I also remember a swimming teacher I had when I was about 12. I never did master kicking with my legs…but I was floating by her in the pool in my dreams. 🙂 Her name was Jean. [I never forget that.]


  4. Pingback: Life Story: Chapter Fifty Five – The Confusing Middle

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