My teacher was walking around the room conversing with everyone. When she got to my table, she complimented my sketches. "Oh my goodness, Andy! These drawings are outstanding." She continued to ask me about what I was going to do with the sketches. "They're for the strip in the paper. I submit to them every now and then, but I don't think they're good." She was appalled by my statement. As if I had offended her. She reassured me that they were the best she had seen and that I should keep going. She thinks that I'll make it big someday.
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on that side: 3
We had a free day in art class, and I was working on some sketches. They were for the comic strip of our local newspaper. Every week they feature a new strip and the artist that they pick to be featured gets 20 dollars. I understand that 20 dollars a week doesn't sound very ideal to anyone trying to make a living off of comics. But for me, it wasn't primarily about the money. Of course I would want this to be my main profession. But at the end of the day though, I just wanted to change people's lives.
By andor rosen8 months ago in Poets
I First Saw Him
When I first saw him sitting on the wall, relaxed and looking out over the water, I was sure he wasn't a local. Not including children, there are only about 250 or 300 of us in this area full-time, though that number is ten-fold in the summer, and I know everyone at least by sight or by family resemblance. And yet, the way he sat looked familiar and started my mind sorting and discarding among the families I knew, not quite like this one, not quite like that one.
By Natalie Wilkinson7 days ago in Fiction
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