Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Reflecting on Junior Year

Honestly, junior year pretty much sucked. Academically, that is. I realized that everyone was telling the truth when they said your junior year in high school will, without a doubt, be your hardest year. BUT, amidst all the suckiness, there was my art class. I'm glad I had this class last period, because I used it as an asset in numerous ways. One, to let out all my stress caused by all my previous classes, and two, to better my art skills, like drawing and painting. I feel as if I have really improved with my art, and it has shown outside of school. My free-drawings that I do at home now look much better, due to all the techniques I've been reminded of this year in art. What I'm most proud of though is my time capsule and how well it came out...especially because I did it all by hand! No stencils, no pictures, nothing. Just my creativity at it's finest. I was skeptical about taking art for my junior year, but I'm glad I did. From my very first attempt at the bicycle drawing to the pages of my book, I am proud to say the quality of my work has really shown improvement. 

Looking Back 20 Years into the Past

The date was June 11, in the year 2034. I had just recently moved to Florida with my husband and our four young children. We were unpacking the last of our things; I was unpacking the boxes that were upstairs and my children were unpacking the boxes that were filled with their toys downstairs. As I was putting things together in my and my husband's bedroom, my youngest daughter came running upstairs, yelling "Mommy, Mommy, look what I found!" She was carrying a box, which was painted with a different Disney movie on each side, and two pink handprints on the top. 
I instantly remembered what this box was. In my junior year of high school, we had an assignment for my Art class to make a time capsule. This was mine. The box was sealed with packing tape, so I decided to cut the tape and open the box. Looking at the contents inside, I started smiling at the memories they represented. I read the letter I had written to myself, and laughed at my younger self. But what really got me were the pictures, pictures of my closest friends from high school. There were also pictures of me and my brother and my parents when we were toddlers, and even Catrina, the cat that I had from kindergarten to college. She meant so much to me, and so did everyone who's picture was in the box. My daughter kept asking who each person was and why each little object was in the box, so I explained every detail I could to her. High school wasn't my favorite part of my life, but the memories my time capsule held reminded me of the good times, the times that mattered most.