Throughout my high school career, it had always been my goal to show at our monthly school art show, the Artwerks Gallery. Before you envision some white room with student art hanging pristinely on the walls, I'll break it down for you: There's a small, square hallway that leads to the emergency exit from our library, that was good-heartedly converted into a small but respectable gallery space. Usually, two artists with framable art will show on either sides of this space, getting their own walls, and students with ceramics may also show at the same time. The art department hosts an open house one day at lunch, which has the oh-so-tasty dry cookies and chemically awkward fruit punch at the refreshment table. I'd never been to one of these open houses before, but had browsed at the art from time to time during my trips to the library. But this year, not only did I get to spectate, I got to exhibit (the first show of the year, nonetheless)!
But you see, the way I came about this exhibition is kind of not how I'd hoped for. One of the best artists in Utah, Lester Lee, was a teacher at Woods Cross for several years, and I along with the rest of his students really loved him and his classes. He encouraged any type of creativity and innovative thought, guided students down the right path with a few trick-up-his-sleeves, and honored students' talents by complimenting and constructively criticizing their work. I had taken two painting classes from him sophomore and junior year, which led me to his abrupt retirement announcement. This was so unfortunate, because I'd planned on taking A.P. Studio Art my senior year, and couldn't imagine anyone else as my instructor. Lee was the art department -- all the artistic energy that our school had once had, was drained by my senior year. No one was excited to take art classes anymore, with the two other art teachers begrudgingly taking over his classes (thanks, budget cuts!). I had always had a vision of me being his next golden-child-senior artist, like several of my peers had been, but that was shattered (that's assuming it would have even happened -- I'm definitely not the best artist at my school).
But I did not give up my passion for art, so I took AP Studio and am still currently working on my portfolio. The teacher, Ms. Swann, desperately needed two artists to fill the first Artwerks show, so by default she chose the two seniors she had experience in teaching, me and my main art-adversary, Emily (who is great by the way).
So I didn't have my portfolio looked at by my idol, Mr. Lee, to gain a spot in the show. I didn't have to apply, struggle, or defend. I was just given the spot, the first showing. This was kind of disheartening because I wanted time to work on my portfolio to really put forth pieces I could be fully proud of. But in the end everything turned out fine, I got to show some of my favorites, and maybe even a few duds. But I really appreciated the turnout and my peers complimenting my stuff. I am far from popular, far from the norm, far from sticking-out. The cloak of invisibility was removed for one lunch period to reveal what I really am, an artist.
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