As the nostalgia creeps in.

Today I went to visit my high school. I haven't been back since I graduated. Even though it was only five months ago, I feel like I can hardly remember the distant girl I was when I walked those halls. But in some ways nothing has changed. I didn't feel the need to get a guest pass since I really am no guest at this school that gave me so much. I still know all the ways to walk about mischievously without getting caught. I still love the sight of the familiar orange craft paper covering almost every inch of its worn walls. I still cherish the stillness of the empty quad as classes are in session, protected by the beautiful brick buildings that contrast so nicely with the blue sky.
There was a purpose for this trip down memory lane.
I was asked to give the current AP studio art students some advice and encouragement on making difficult decisions about their portfolios, balancing their work, and how to make pieces work that you had discarded.

What a touchy subject for me. I wanted to very badly to tell them that I wish I had never taken that class, that it made me grow to hate my work and depreciate my craft and that, as a result, I am still trying so very diligently to regain my love of art and to see my work in a positive light. What a way for four years of hard work to end, with the fourth being my most hated experience. I wanted to tell them all to turn for the hills now, that the energy and battle really isn't worth a gold star from a board of teachers who are "certified" to judge our life's work. it. And then give it a number to signify our worth.
jeans - Lucky Brand//sweater - Old Navy//scarf - Cotton On//necklace - Lucky Brand//boots - Steve Madden

But of course, I didn't tell them that.

Instead, I offered the only words of wisdom I had, ones that got me through the treacherous process: in the end, it will be okay.

What else can you really say?

During my visit, I spent some extra time in the art department, in the tiny room reserved for advanced students, that was virtually my second home. It was a strange feeling, I'll admit. But it was also a comforting one. In all that had changed in my life since I had last been there, one thing had remained.
And now I will just be a legacy of work framed and hanging on the wall, a student who is remembered and maybe talked about years down the road, and who perhaps stops in from time to time to check on the department that she helped create a name and reputation for.

But for now, I will continue to discover all the lovely forms of art there are, and learn to appreciate each one in its own way. And to create things that make me happy, because that is simply what I must do. Nor would I want to do anything else.
P.S. Wow, I didn't mean to get that deep on you guys! Thanks for hanging in there :)