Sometime during the beginning of the fall semester, Mr. Biasotti gifted me a pen. However, not just any pen, a STAETDLER pen. I bonded with this drawing utensil over the course of the following week to the point where I stated, “I love my Staetdler so much that I wish to buried with it.”
If you look at the top right corner, where I started, you can see the ink is dark, strong, and you can see it clearly. Then the last part, the hands and threads, it’s much more faded and the strings are lines of ink barely holding on. This artwork started with the life of my pen and ended my pen’s life.
The work I have submitted was drawn entirely with that exact pen. Every line, shape, and shade—with the same marker.
You can ask almost any of my friends what my favourite thing to draw is and chances are, a majority will say, “eyes.” This is true but my second favorite thing to draw is “hands.” I discovered that during the previous semester in my interior design class. I’ve never drawn and painted so much in my life before and while making this artwork, I learned many things about myself, my abilities, and what I was capable of doing.
Freshman year for my biology final, I remember drawing an eye. It was the first one I had officially made that was “realistic” and I was so proud of myself. In fact, while my style has changed that eye still remains as the best eye I have ever drawn. The first section on the top right corner of the art, represents my freshman year, and the boxes surrounding it are my thoughts, my fears, and all the things weighing me down at the time. As you travel over to the left you can see hands, surrounded by similar boxes, almost more boxes than from the start—and the hands are holding on but also being held down. As you let you gaze travel to the bottom there is a horizon. There are boxes but while still complicated, there are far leas. This piece, is meant to represent my four years that I have spent in high school with all the ups and downs and how me, and everyone else I knew at the beginning of 2020 are still here regardless.
It’s not as extravagant, detailed, or fancy as others—skill level wise, it could be much better. However, and that’s why this piece is named, “I Made It.” It carries several meanings. I am a senior. In fact, as I write this, I believe that I graduate within the next 90 days. If you look at the hands at the top of the artwork, with lengths of string and thread wrapped around the fingers, not only does it show someone being held—or tethered down emotionally, but it also shows someone, “holding on” with the fear of letting go. I will miss my teachers, I will miss my underclassman friends, the feeling of swinging that backpack around my shoulder when I hear the bell ring, of struggling with school WiFi and getting to class on time. Despite how much someone can complain about how hard school is, its so much harder to realize how little time you have left to experience those things that once brought you anguish as you prepare yourself to bid them farewell.
“I Made It.” I survived high school, I survived the entire 2020 ordeal, I survived my AP exams last year, and I survived the drama and social conflicts that I encountered my first year of high school—I made it and I am here, in the present, at a good and content place that my freshman self could have never even dreamed of myself being. Not only did I make it here, but I made THIS. After finishing this piece, I felt complete. It was one of the largest projects I have ever attempted and finished. It is my pride and joy and I hope one day others can appreciate it too. “I Made It.”
"Limestone"
I am the debris of age past,
Of the beasts big and small,
Who roamed the deep and wide seas,
Through cerulean days and wine-dark nights.
Now, those who roamed are rock,
And I am what is left behind-
from the day the ocean died.
When I dried and crakced-
My salty seas turning to wide, open plains,
Sunbaked and yellow.
Today, I sit high and dry, upon ridge-line and cliff.
And stand as a permanent witness,
To those who had roamed,
All that time ago.
Bald eagle perched in Seward, Alaska's marina.