Sketch Dirty

This was my attempt to “sketch dirty” Ha! I know what you’re thinking & you’re being naughty! 😉

Back in my days of elementary school we actually were graded on our art work! I always got really high marks until the devastating day in 6th grade when Mrs. Krebs brought in an art student from some fancy smancy college to teach us about “art” by sketching our sneakers. I went straight to work meticulously drawing every line of my K-Mart wannabe Addias knockoffs! I even used a ruler and that weird thing that you were suppose to use to draw perfect circles but ending up stabbing the kid in leg that you sat next to for eating your glue… But I digress… When I was done I presented a very pristine pair of my kid sweaty grubby sneakers, with perfectly tied laces and a very articulate shadow to show dimension, the hippy dippy artsy farsty student art teacher, GASPED! At first I thought it be one of shear delight from the glory of my art work! OH! But No! No! No!

“That’s Not right!” She exclaimed! “That’s not what your sneakers look like!”

My nostrils started to flair, not in rage, but in attempts to hold back gushing tears of utter confusion! Of course it looked like my sneakers! I sketched MY sneakers! How can MY sketch of MY sneakers look like anything other than MY SNEAKERS!

In her own desperation to keep this racially ambiguous girl from self distruction, she scrambled off into another classroom and came back with a sketch of 2 fried eggs and some spaghetti. I don’t think I was ever more confused.

“You want it to look more like this…” She said trying to be consoling. “Your’s is to ‘clean’. You want to ‘sketch dirty’…”

I had not a clue of what she was talking about. I was to busy wallowing in self pitty & doubt. She gave me a “D” and Mrs. Krebs still hung it on the wall with the others as a constant reminder of my failed career as a 6th grade artist.

It wasn’t until I was in college when my AWESOME friend Erin was taking an art history class as an elective that I kinda sorta understood what sketching dirty meant… Yeah I looked through her books… Still, I don’t think I’ve even remotely grasped the concept… Yet! 😉

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A Memory Of Lent

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Growing up in a Catholic community in Colorado Springs Colorado, all the neighbourhood kids would brace themselves for 40 days with no candy or chocolate. But not my Brother & me. Nope. We reveled in the “offering” to “share” our Kit Kat, Snicker, or Hershy bars full well knowing that they gave them up for Lent.  We were the perfect tag team of temptation & damnation. So when the other kids with their inflated sense of superiority would get up on their high horses so that they could look down on us when they declined our offer with a snobby  “No Thanks! I’m giving up candy for Lent!”  We would then shrug & proceeded to eat and savour every sweet lushious morsel right in from them. It was even sweeter if adults were around to witness.

My Brother had the dicipline and controle not to eat the whole candy bar. At 3/4 of the way through he’d stop and say “Are you sure you don’t want this last bit?” When the other kid answered with more biting snobbery; “I can’t! I told you! I gave it up for Lent!” He’ll then say “I don’t want any more, so I guess I’ll throw it away.” At which point the other kid would figit & drool. Oh the thought of this perfectly good piece of candy bar going to waste… Their eyes would dart side to side, scanning to see if anyone of importance is watching.  The breeze stood still. …

Just as my Brother began to pull the candy bar back, their resolve would instantly disinergrate like a delicate snowflake on a hot Summer day. They’d snatch it from my Brother and smash it into their face with very little accuracy, I might add… When their face was covered in chocolate,  and their eyes rolled back into their eyelids fluttering from the ecstasy of such delectable sin, I would say quietly in their ear; “You’re going to burn in Hell for that!”

My Brother and I would stand in reverant silence as they trembled  in their Biblical fear…

Never again were they ever so high & mighty… Well, at least not until the next Lent.

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