Mrs. Libin’s Class of ’96-’98

7 Dec

Ever since I can remember I have used art as an outlet for my emotions. I sit down and take out a pencil, a pen or even my pastels and let the emotions pour out through each stroke and blend the shades.
Back in high school I used my art classes as a retreat. In those classes I didn’t feel like the underachiever. I took my art as serious as one can when they have no patience to take the time to truly focus on the task. I would paint my art with large strokes, using ink dots, shades of grey and smudges of pastel colors. My frustrations in life would reappear and you could see it in my face while I was trying to create something more than mediocre. What you wouldn’t see was how this was the only outlet I understood and wasn’t completely afraid to use it to expel my teenage hormonal emotions.

And now I have found another art classes to attend with a former Mrs. Libin classmate. We had been discussing attending an art class for almost a year. Tuesday night she told me that there was a class that night and would I be interested in going? I was exhausted Tuesday night after a few very busy days at work. All I wanted to do was go home, uncork a bottle of Cabernet from the Golan wineries and unwind. Instead I felt this pull to go to the art class and to give it one shot.

I forgot how completely therapeutic it is for me to sit in a room with a bunch of others and try to create something. The wood table, the banter with an old friend and some new ones, the pencils and charcoal, the pastels. Those two hours past in a blur and by the time the class was over I felt all relaxed and di-stressed.

For some people – their outlet might be running, yoga, photography, music, or even alcohol. But for me mine has always been and will always be art.

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