JOE, IN BLACK & WHITE

I used to be an artist, not formerly known as Prince, but the kind that does sketches and paints, until my father put a stop to such nonsense. My family moved the year I started 9th grade, the last year I had an art class. This didn't traumatize me too much, except for the first week when the counselor placed me in Woodshop. I met the so-called "burn-outs" in there, and I was terrified of using the table saw, among other power tools. I believe our first project was to make some bookshelves. Not me, no way! I had the counselor switch me to a typing class.

I already knew how to type. I pretended to follow along with the typing teacher's drills and qualified for the school's typing team. Being the only boy on the team and the best typer had its advantages. I met plenty of girls. Unfortunately, this did not increase my popularity like I thought it would, so I focused my energy on my art.

The above picture is titled, "Joe." That was the name of our dog back then. Ten years later he would suffer a stroke and my father would have to put him down. I enjoyed working with scratch-art, where you brush ink over a canvas then scratch away at it to form different textures of light. On the back of the canvas was my letter grade in red ink: -A. Also, at the community art show, I received a second place ribbon in this medium.