I was a VERY emotional teenager. I'm not saying that I am no longer, but the water just runs deeper now. At the time I was convinced I was in Love. Obsessive, Irrevocable, Endlessly-driving, Earth-shattering, Soul-destroying LOVE. Whenever he was around, I couldn't speak or think or breathe. I joined a school function (which shall remain nameless to protect the innocent) simply so that I could be nearer to him. I was lost in the throes of my emotional intensity. I was silly and out of control and ignorant. I'm just glad the only thing broken out of this was my teenage heart.
The paths we walk to get to today are strange indeed. I cried a little upon seeing this piece again. It has been so long. This whole week has kind of been bringing up ghosts. I met someone a few days ago who reminded me very much of myself around this age. Friggin' Pluto in Capricorn unearthing the dead for yet another trip down undead memory lane. I suppose there is something to be learned here, but for the life of me I do not know what it is. Love hurts? Yeah, Yeah. Obsession makes for great art? I dunno. I was at least lucky enough to have this piece published years later on the cover of an RFD issue.
Working on this piece and all the others in my AP portfolio is where I developed my love for Berol Prismacolor pencils. I can't live without them now. My involvement with Prismacolor pencils is very close to my relationship with Sharpies: obsessive and driving and I always end up with neato piece of art when I'm finished. I guess I haven't changed so much after all.
This piece actually became the seed of a trio of pieces. The second and third pieces were Death and Devil, respectively. I'll have to dig around and see if I have any copies of those two to post. They were given away as gifts many moons ago.
Recommended Listening:
This song and album were my soundtrack during that time.
George Winston
Thanksgiving
December
{Berol Prismacolor pencil on Colored Paper}
