at 17....

Inspired by a post on Tony Diterlizzi's blog...and humming that Janis Ian tune, I look backward in an attempt to help me look forward:
1987. At 17 I was a junior in high school. I was a cartoonist for the school paper, yearbook and drew on anything that remained still for 2 seconds. I had always drawn...and I knew long before others did what I wanted to do with my life. I had an unusual affinity for Hawaiian clothing. I wore anything and everything with palm-trees,pineapples and "op" on it. I didn't dress like the other kids. Most being extremely preppy , some what we called in NJ "Cheesesdogs" they were trampy and then there were the smoking kids, they were the metal heads. I was shy with everyone but my friends, which I suppose I have to say we were nerdy. Somehow, I was either in total denial at the time, or believed so completely we were just us...that I never realized I was a nerd. I just so desperately wanted to be recognized as a an artist. So, this pic is me..looking not too thrilled...being awarded the National Art Honor Society Award - SECOND PLACE. Behind Dave Cook, the guy I worshipped for four years.(???) He went on to Cornell, studied Law and the last thing he ever drew was his Fraternity's T-shirt. He never intended to pursue art, but I never intended anything else. I was robbed! My art teachers were wonderful, Ms. Haness and Mr. Herb O'Brien. I found ways to spend lots of time in that art room. It was the one room I owned. I owned that room...and when you're awkward and shy..that means everything.
I was a vegetarian. I was a nut. I painted peace signs on everything, especially cows. "Peaceful beef"...Ai-Yai-yai-- yeesh...
I plastered my walls with art and Beatles posters. I was in a bubble of naivete...I was probably filling out all of my school applications. I wanted to go to the Rhode Island School of Design or the University of Honolulu...
At 17 I spent a summer in Brazil. My Grandfather took all of his grandchildren in a VW Bus through the country to meet his family he left behind. It was one of those life defining experiences. To find out you belong to another culture.. you have history that goes back on hundred year old plantations...
At 17(in 1987) I had thick, curly brown hair and bushy eyebrows that had never been waxed. I was chubby(still am), I had never had a real boyfriend. I was pretty. Although I never thought that then, I see it now. I told everyone I was going to work for Disney some day(eventually I did freelance). At 17(in 1987)the whole world lay out before me...every possibility artistic or otherwise...and I was scared. Scared of failure, of disappointing people and letting myself down.
If I could tell that kid of 17 somethings, they would be, believe in yourself, trust your instincts, boys will eventually notice you focus on your art lunkhead!, Dream it, Believe it, Be it! -'cause you can.

I will tell my daugter these things. I will tell her how I met her Dad and how he was the first boy who was sweet and kind and cute who treated me wonderfully and that's how I knew he was the one. I will tell her to follow her passion whether it's art or animals. I will tell her to be a little selfish with her time. Take care of yourself first, so you can take better care of others...after. I tell her now, how I want to do children's books. I told her about rejection already with the Clarion Publisher...and I told her I still believed in myself no matter the opinions of others... Twenty years is a loooooong time. Life's quite a ride, isn't it?