TAKE 1 (9/4/2011): Plucked from the acidic, dream-crushing depths of deviantART, what follows was another excuse to spend time with the drawing tablet. So … you, dear audience, get to look at 11 or 12 sketched bits instead of a single, well-executed piece of artwork.
I pondered writing an elaborate entry around this image–explain who some of the names below are, among other things. But, honestly, what is there to say about my high school years that would be of interest to anyone aside from my wife?
People who loved it (enough) go back to teach.
TAKE 2 (9/8/2011): I’m not terribly proud at having drawn one of these. I no longer belong to the demographic most appropriate for them. A meme such as this is a prompt of last resort, taken up because I lack the certainty to approach a more compelling subject. And by saying so, I am, quite possibly, little different from the teen I just repeatedly drew. My friendships are still such that I belong to no single group or community, but instead forge individual bonds that, barring death, will last for decades. Corey doesn’t know Justin who doesn’t know Eli who doesn’t know Rachel who doesn’t know Brian who doesn’t know the DeFore’s–which is, perhaps, a summary apt for everyone, but, at this time, it merely makes me feel like I should have hosted a party sometime this past decade.
TAKE 3 (9/10/2011): Hm. Lest I wish to seem like the Supreme Commander of Young Curmudgeons, I ought to say something else. Namely: sketching eleven or twelve things over a couple of evenings felt nice. Also, during the intervening decade between the events depicted above and now, I’ve learned that everything Mr. Woolston said about the art of Ancient Egypt was cribbed from archaeologists whose work was last and most relevant in the 1930s. And: I still have a stupid leather jacket, decades out of style, but not the leather jacket I wore back then. I left that one outside in a downpour one night.