well, that was fun

I'm grateful that my life has been a happy, comfy one.  That's pretty much been the way all along, but I've had my moments.  My 19th and 20th years, for example.

I enjoyed growing up in a small town, but after high school, I was ready to get out and get on with things.  I ended up hanging around for two more years though.  I attended the home town junior college and would later transfer to a university.

Those two years, I could've used some lessons in living in the moment because I mostly just focused on the happy day when I would move on.

I went to class.  I worked to save up cash.  Other than mystery man, there wasn't much else going on during that time.

One day, I was walking across campus when one of my high school friends, Doug, came running up.  He was also attending the junior college.

"Abby!", he said, "You've gotta sign up for this art class!"

Art class?  I was an engineering major.

Doug was a very creative friend, musically gifted.  His major was "computer maintenance", which nowadays would probably be IT.

"It's a great class", he went on. "It's really laid back and a nice break from all the technical stuff.  Plus, it's good for two humanities credits.  Come join us!"

Yeah, okay, whatever.

But he was SO right.  And that class was just what I needed at that rutty time of life.

The teacher was eccentric as art instructors tend to be.  But he knew his stuff - actually taught us technical things about perspective and anatomy while keeping it "really laid back".  Other than Doug and me, there was one other full-time student.  The others were mainly older folks and housewives that just wanted to indulge their hobby one night a week.

When graduation time rolled around, those older folks and housewives threw us full-timers a surprise graduation party during class.  It was so cheesy and perfect!  I get a lump in my throat at the memory of it.

It's like Doug came and rescued me from my stupor.  And by the way, through the magic of facebook, I know that Doug is a happy tech professional with a rocking musical life on the side.

Recently, someone asked me to do a charcoal portrait of a family member.  I thought, "Oh fun!" (I do love getting requests).  However, other than from assorted camp fires, I haven't handled charcoal since 1985 - my two humanities credits art class.

So my reconnaissance trip to the art toy store yesterday was to get some charcoal and reacquaint myself.

I practiced this morning with an '80s version of  "The Boss".  Seemed appropriate since I was remembering the time.

Good times.  Thank you, Dougie!

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