I was kicked out of art class when I was seventeen. The only damn thing I cared about was taken away from me. Did I deserve it for my crime?
During the life drawing aspect of class, an aquintance volunteered to be our drawing subject.
I drew the fully clothed volumptous blonde nude and turned the scarf around her neck into a snake. That new teacher hated me and used it to swat me out of the class. It really burned. I couldn’t believe it and I was mad as hell. I came home and drew this line drawing self portrait as I vowed to keep drawing.
When I viewed the class’s work at a local show months later, I observed that all the drawings looked alike. They were boring in their similarity. huh. . . . .
I realized I had not fit in because I was not moldable in the same sense. Quiet me, I was a bother to the instructor. I realized it was for the best. Thus I began my forays in creative writing as I drew for my own sake.