Eleven years ago today: Monday, August 23, 1999. It was my twenty second birthday and the day I really knew it was love. Dan had been in Iowa City helping me move into my new apartment the past weekend but had to leave on Sunday to go back to Ames to take care of his own living situation and prepare for his classes at Iowa State that would soon begin. We said goodbye and planned to meet up the next weekend again, as our plan was just to take one week at a time. Neither of us was looking forward to the long distance part of our relationship but we both wanted to make it work. Lucky for us traffic rolls at an average of 80mph on I-80, keeping the drive between Iowa City and Ames under two hours (actually well under two hours but don't tell my dad I said that).
It was early evening and I was standing in the living room talking to one of my new roomates and her boyfriend when all of the sudden I see Dan walk by our living room window. I wondered if I was just seeing things for a second but knew it had to be him as he was wearing his favorite mustard yellow Abercrombie baseball hat, a ringer T, jeans, and (I'm sure they were) shiny white sneakers. In his arms were a dozen roses. "Surprise! Happy Birthday!" he said as he walked in the door and handed me the flowers. He said it with his laughing smile, knowing that a surprise it was. My roomate and I stood with our jaws dropped in total shock, I remember her saying "You were just here!" and going on and on about what a great surprise it was. Her boyfriend smiled and just shook his head. It could have been because it was obvious Dan was smitten and he knew he wouldn't hear the end of it from his girlfriend for months, or maybe it was for the same reason as me...as I was holding a bouquet of crimson and yellow, the colors of rival ISU. I changed into less scrubby clothes and just like that a seemingly uneventful birthday became a night out on the town with the person I most wanted to spend it with.
This bold move was more than just a nice gesture, it was the true starting point of our relationship. Although things had much improved over the summer, I was still a little unsure if he loved me and if he was willing to make the commitment to be with me alone. This was how he told me that he was. From this point on we spent our weekdays working really hard so that we could spend our weekends together without having to work or focus on schoolwork. We spent every single weekend of my senior year together, alternating mainly based on family events and twenty first birthday parties. We spent our time between Iowa City, Ames, Sioux City, and Pomeroy; always together.
I wondered what it would be like between us when our relationship existed away from the sheltered church camp environment where we met. It was a fact; we didn't know much at all about each others lives outside if camp. There had been very few if any opportunities to meet extended family and friends. I imagined the reaction his Pomeroy friends would have when they heard we were dating...I pictured them all standing around their tractors shaking fingers at Dan in disbelief and saying (with heavy twang) "But she's from the city!" Looking back now that makes me laugh so hard. I couldn't have been more wrong! Slowly we made the transition to "normal" life and the more I spent with Dan, his friends, his family, the more I loved him.
Showing posts with label twenty-two. Show all posts
Showing posts with label twenty-two. Show all posts
8.23.2010
3.23.2010
Senior Year; part 2
I was very anxious to get back to Iowa City in the fall of ’99 to start my senior year. If you hadn’t guessed it, Dan was the boy that followed me from camp. It was obvious to us that we were compatible and both really liked each other; however we had previously gone through some ups and downs. So we talked. Like adults. (It was crazy). I was surprised to hear the words come out of my mouth because I really, really liked him and didn’t want to, but near the end of the summer I told him exactly how I felt. I said that I liked him, but I was tired of the game. Simply put; I was moving on. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happened. From that moment on, we were inseparable.
I have to admit, having a boyfriend came in handy when I moved into my new apartment. And that was one of the many reasons (after moving my stuff NINE times in THREE years between summer camp, dormitories, and apartments) my dad really liked him too. My new apartment was on the corner of Church and Dubuque Street and I shared it with two new roommates. A major benefit to my new place was the much shorter walk to and from the Art building. I would still look goofy carrying 18”x24” drawing pads of paper, art projects, my design tool tackle box and portfolios to class, but it would be much easier. My new apartment was also one of those places I mentioned in Part 1 that had parking spots available for rent. And by now, I saw the advantage to renting one. Why wouldn’t I want a VIP spot? Heck yes. Of course I also thoroughly enjoyed the adrenaline rush upon returning to my apartment to see some fool (probably some dumb freshman girl) parked in my spot, subsequently requiring me to call a tow truck, show them my signed lease and rightful ownership of the spot, and have her ass towed. Heh heh. I miss that. I do. I really do.
My art classes would include drawing, painting, and design. By this point I had eliminated all of the required puke coursework so what was left to finish up was my favorite types of art classes and gym. It was awesome. This year there was a married couple from Montana visiting as art instructors, and I am so thankful for them: Terry Carson and Sara Mast. Terry was my professor for “Life Drawing” and Sara for “Painting I.” In all my years of school they are the two teachers that stand out; they are the two that I will always remember. I’m sure they had a similar impact on all of their students, but I especially felt like when I was in their class they were teaching to me alone; they were speaking just to me.
In “Life Drawing” we spent our class period drawing the human body in the naked form. Yes, I have seen lots of people naked and drawn them. Yes, completely naked including their boobies and pee-pees. When I tell most people this first their eyes get all big, they gasp, and then snicker. It just seems ridiculous to most. The truth is that I owe a lot to those models. Without them I wouldn’t have been able to learn how to draw the human form. Through the semester I gained an appreciation for the human body and learned to see it as a work of art.
Terry encouraged me at each class, giving me constructive criticism when I needed it. I started to notice that when I tried to draw perfectly or like the others in my class, he didn’t approve. He liked it when I drew the way that I wanted to; fast, big, always with charcoal, smudging and blending with my fingers and an eraser. Through class discussions and reviews I gained confidence in my drawing abilities. I still remember the day back when I first arrived at Iowa and ran into a friend and talented artist who was in the Art Education program. We were talking about our art projects and he told me that artistic talent is not hereditary. I was shocked to hear that because I had assumed he was just born with the ability to draw. “You learn the skills, and you learn to see things differently,” he told me. That was happening to me.
“Painting I” was a totally new experience for me. Outside of walls, furniture, and some camp signage, I had not painted since I was a kid. Our primary medium was oil paints. We painted both on paper and canvases that we learned how to prepare ourselves. To this day I love to assemble and gesso my own canvas. For that reason I will never buy one that is “ready-made.” If you know me well, this shouldn’t come as surprise.
I was thrilled for the chance to use color in painting. None of my previous art classes involved color. For design we created black and white technical drawings, and for drawing classes we used black charcoal. Color was new and exciting. I found myself intimidated at first but it became empowering. I am the artist; I can use the colors I want to. I loved making my own rules; altering and replacing colors as I chose, using swift strokes of paint and understated lines to create form. Just as Terry encouraged me to do things with my own style, Sara provided the same type of encouragement. I noticed that of my paintings, the ones that I painted quickly (Maybe because I procrastinated on the assignment?) were her favorite. I soon realized that it was because when I painted quickly I didn’t over think it.
The freedom of loose expression in drawing and painting were balanced by rigidity and problem solving in my design classes. I needed both. My final design class was titled “Problems in Design: Form and Function.” My instructor’s name was Cory; I had him for a couple of other design classes already so I knew his teaching style well. All of my design classes presented a challenge of some sort; I particularly enjoyed the challenges he presented in this class emphasizing the necessity that a design not only be appealing but also serve its purpose. Make a chair out of cardboard. I knew fully well that he had to be able to sit in it. Build a bridge out of a single repeating block. The catch - it must support a bucket of sand hanging from it. The projects almost always required annoying trips to Menards for plywood, dowels, wire, etc. I had a slight advantage in the class having a boyfriend that worked construction! I would show Dan my sketches and he wouldn’t try to change my design or do (much of) the work for me, but he would help me find the best materials and tools that I needed.
At the end of each design class we were required to turn in a portfolio, which counted for the majority of our grade. You could skip every class if you wanted to, but you had to be able to complete the portfolio (which would be difficult even if you missed one class). It included slides that we were to have taken of each project created, along with absolutely perfect photocopies of the line drawings of the forms. It took a ridiculous amount of time, bottles of white-out, and many trips to Kinkos to assemble all necessary parts of the portfolio. They were so time consuming in fact that the previous year I made a little call to Bath and Body Works and quit my job over the phone because I didn’t have enough time that week to both work and complete a design portfolio. (I can still hear my manager’s self righteous voice “You will never work for Bath and Body Works or a Bath and Body Works affiliated company again!” Darn). The portfolio was a lot of work, but it was such a sense of accomplishment when finished. With this design class I felt that more than with any other as I opened my portfolio and saw an ‘A+’ scribbled in Cory’s handwriting. It wasn’t a grade normally given, especially by him. It was the frosting on my cake.
I have to admit, having a boyfriend came in handy when I moved into my new apartment. And that was one of the many reasons (after moving my stuff NINE times in THREE years between summer camp, dormitories, and apartments) my dad really liked him too. My new apartment was on the corner of Church and Dubuque Street and I shared it with two new roommates. A major benefit to my new place was the much shorter walk to and from the Art building. I would still look goofy carrying 18”x24” drawing pads of paper, art projects, my design tool tackle box and portfolios to class, but it would be much easier. My new apartment was also one of those places I mentioned in Part 1 that had parking spots available for rent. And by now, I saw the advantage to renting one. Why wouldn’t I want a VIP spot? Heck yes. Of course I also thoroughly enjoyed the adrenaline rush upon returning to my apartment to see some fool (probably some dumb freshman girl) parked in my spot, subsequently requiring me to call a tow truck, show them my signed lease and rightful ownership of the spot, and have her ass towed. Heh heh. I miss that. I do. I really do.
My art classes would include drawing, painting, and design. By this point I had eliminated all of the required puke coursework so what was left to finish up was my favorite types of art classes and gym. It was awesome. This year there was a married couple from Montana visiting as art instructors, and I am so thankful for them: Terry Carson and Sara Mast. Terry was my professor for “Life Drawing” and Sara for “Painting I.” In all my years of school they are the two teachers that stand out; they are the two that I will always remember. I’m sure they had a similar impact on all of their students, but I especially felt like when I was in their class they were teaching to me alone; they were speaking just to me.
In “Life Drawing” we spent our class period drawing the human body in the naked form. Yes, I have seen lots of people naked and drawn them. Yes, completely naked including their boobies and pee-pees. When I tell most people this first their eyes get all big, they gasp, and then snicker. It just seems ridiculous to most. The truth is that I owe a lot to those models. Without them I wouldn’t have been able to learn how to draw the human form. Through the semester I gained an appreciation for the human body and learned to see it as a work of art.
Terry encouraged me at each class, giving me constructive criticism when I needed it. I started to notice that when I tried to draw perfectly or like the others in my class, he didn’t approve. He liked it when I drew the way that I wanted to; fast, big, always with charcoal, smudging and blending with my fingers and an eraser. Through class discussions and reviews I gained confidence in my drawing abilities. I still remember the day back when I first arrived at Iowa and ran into a friend and talented artist who was in the Art Education program. We were talking about our art projects and he told me that artistic talent is not hereditary. I was shocked to hear that because I had assumed he was just born with the ability to draw. “You learn the skills, and you learn to see things differently,” he told me. That was happening to me.
“Painting I” was a totally new experience for me. Outside of walls, furniture, and some camp signage, I had not painted since I was a kid. Our primary medium was oil paints. We painted both on paper and canvases that we learned how to prepare ourselves. To this day I love to assemble and gesso my own canvas. For that reason I will never buy one that is “ready-made.” If you know me well, this shouldn’t come as surprise.
I was thrilled for the chance to use color in painting. None of my previous art classes involved color. For design we created black and white technical drawings, and for drawing classes we used black charcoal. Color was new and exciting. I found myself intimidated at first but it became empowering. I am the artist; I can use the colors I want to. I loved making my own rules; altering and replacing colors as I chose, using swift strokes of paint and understated lines to create form. Just as Terry encouraged me to do things with my own style, Sara provided the same type of encouragement. I noticed that of my paintings, the ones that I painted quickly (Maybe because I procrastinated on the assignment?) were her favorite. I soon realized that it was because when I painted quickly I didn’t over think it.
The freedom of loose expression in drawing and painting were balanced by rigidity and problem solving in my design classes. I needed both. My final design class was titled “Problems in Design: Form and Function.” My instructor’s name was Cory; I had him for a couple of other design classes already so I knew his teaching style well. All of my design classes presented a challenge of some sort; I particularly enjoyed the challenges he presented in this class emphasizing the necessity that a design not only be appealing but also serve its purpose. Make a chair out of cardboard. I knew fully well that he had to be able to sit in it. Build a bridge out of a single repeating block. The catch - it must support a bucket of sand hanging from it. The projects almost always required annoying trips to Menards for plywood, dowels, wire, etc. I had a slight advantage in the class having a boyfriend that worked construction! I would show Dan my sketches and he wouldn’t try to change my design or do (much of) the work for me, but he would help me find the best materials and tools that I needed.
At the end of each design class we were required to turn in a portfolio, which counted for the majority of our grade. You could skip every class if you wanted to, but you had to be able to complete the portfolio (which would be difficult even if you missed one class). It included slides that we were to have taken of each project created, along with absolutely perfect photocopies of the line drawings of the forms. It took a ridiculous amount of time, bottles of white-out, and many trips to Kinkos to assemble all necessary parts of the portfolio. They were so time consuming in fact that the previous year I made a little call to Bath and Body Works and quit my job over the phone because I didn’t have enough time that week to both work and complete a design portfolio. (I can still hear my manager’s self righteous voice “You will never work for Bath and Body Works or a Bath and Body Works affiliated company again!” Darn). The portfolio was a lot of work, but it was such a sense of accomplishment when finished. With this design class I felt that more than with any other as I opened my portfolio and saw an ‘A+’ scribbled in Cory’s handwriting. It wasn’t a grade normally given, especially by him. It was the frosting on my cake.
3.18.2010
Senior Year; part 1
After thirty two years, if I had to pick one year of my life where I experienced the most discovery of self - without a doubt it was my senior year of college. It was back in ’99-’00. I had spent the previous year adapting to some very big changes. My junior year was my first at The University of Iowa; Iowa City was new to me and much further away from home. I changed my field of study from Education to Art and instead of a dorm room; I lived in an apartment with two roommates. I definitely went through an adjustment period, and I’d say it took about a year.
This may sound silly but by the time my senior year rolled around I was adjusted to walking to and from class. Upon arrival to Iowa I immediately refused to drive my car or ride the bus to class. I had already been warned that driving was not a good idea because parking was a nightmare. In fact, parking was so scarce that many apartment complexes had to charge you a monthly fee for a parking spot. Rent your own parking spot? The idea was crazy to me. I didn’t ride the bus because: A. I’m just not a big fan of them and B. they seemed confusing and scary. So I walked and walked and walked, through the sun, rain, sleet, and snow. And when you have to walk over a large hill, it is uphill both ways. A brisk walk to the art building alone took about 20 - 25 minutes from my apartment at the end of South Johnston Street. Iowa is not like many campuses where the buildings are all clustered together so your only challenge is just getting to campus. Oh no. The campus is very spread out and by the end of an average day I had spent about two hours walking.
I was adjusted to a vegetarian diet. I have never really been a big fan of meat and living with two vegetarian roommates my junior year was just one more thing that swayed me. (I have since eaten meat again - although had a large aversion to meat when I was pregnant - but I go back and forth all the time about returning to a vegetarian diet.) People always ask how I ever found anything to eat, but I never had a problem finding non-meat items to fill me up and there were plenty of places in Iowa City serving delicious vegetarian meals.
I was adjusted to buying my own groceries, working part time, and paying bills (Although the real lesson of paying bills would come after graduation because it doesn’t really count when your parents are giving you a large portion of the money you pay the bills with. Wait…my parents helped me with my bills for awhile after graduation too. Crap. Never mind.) Of course some of the discovery of self comes about by realizing what is not for you and my junior year I tested out the world of working retail and found it to be among those things. Bath and Body Works may you and your over powering headache inducing aromas and round wooden apple picking baskets die in a fire.
I was fully adjusted to having divorced parents. Everything was finalized the spring of my sophomore year and by the time my junior year ended I had already muddled through feelings of loss; what it was like not to have a “home” anymore and sharing time between my parents. The second year was easier than the first; time was a huge part of the healing process. So by the time my senior year came, I was no longer sad about it all the time. About a year after the divorce my dad found a new love and Bev would become my stepmom in the fall of my senior year. I couldn’t have been happier that they found each other.
I was adjusted to being an adult. I survived my twenty first year, turning twenty two a week before my senior year began. At eighteen you might technically be an adult but everyone knows that twenty one is the real thing, with so much more to celebrate. We all know what that is! And can I mention that Iowa City is a great place to celebrate?
Lastly, I was adjusted to the fact that my summer camp days were over. I drove away from my fourth summer working at Twin Lakes Christian Center and I knew that I would not be returning for a fifth. Summer camp was one of the things I loved most and always proved to be a great experience. I looked forward to going every summer, so much that I would request to come early and spend a few weeks there working before the entire summer staff arrived. I knew it would not be possible for me to work there after graduation. I made many life long friendships and had so much fun spending my days lifeguarding and playing with kids at the lake. After four summers it was time to let go and leave it behind…well, at least most of it. That last summer, a significant boy followed me when I left.
This may sound silly but by the time my senior year rolled around I was adjusted to walking to and from class. Upon arrival to Iowa I immediately refused to drive my car or ride the bus to class. I had already been warned that driving was not a good idea because parking was a nightmare. In fact, parking was so scarce that many apartment complexes had to charge you a monthly fee for a parking spot. Rent your own parking spot? The idea was crazy to me. I didn’t ride the bus because: A. I’m just not a big fan of them and B. they seemed confusing and scary. So I walked and walked and walked, through the sun, rain, sleet, and snow. And when you have to walk over a large hill, it is uphill both ways. A brisk walk to the art building alone took about 20 - 25 minutes from my apartment at the end of South Johnston Street. Iowa is not like many campuses where the buildings are all clustered together so your only challenge is just getting to campus. Oh no. The campus is very spread out and by the end of an average day I had spent about two hours walking.
I was adjusted to a vegetarian diet. I have never really been a big fan of meat and living with two vegetarian roommates my junior year was just one more thing that swayed me. (I have since eaten meat again - although had a large aversion to meat when I was pregnant - but I go back and forth all the time about returning to a vegetarian diet.) People always ask how I ever found anything to eat, but I never had a problem finding non-meat items to fill me up and there were plenty of places in Iowa City serving delicious vegetarian meals.
I was adjusted to buying my own groceries, working part time, and paying bills (Although the real lesson of paying bills would come after graduation because it doesn’t really count when your parents are giving you a large portion of the money you pay the bills with. Wait…my parents helped me with my bills for awhile after graduation too. Crap. Never mind.) Of course some of the discovery of self comes about by realizing what is not for you and my junior year I tested out the world of working retail and found it to be among those things. Bath and Body Works may you and your over powering headache inducing aromas and round wooden apple picking baskets die in a fire.
I was fully adjusted to having divorced parents. Everything was finalized the spring of my sophomore year and by the time my junior year ended I had already muddled through feelings of loss; what it was like not to have a “home” anymore and sharing time between my parents. The second year was easier than the first; time was a huge part of the healing process. So by the time my senior year came, I was no longer sad about it all the time. About a year after the divorce my dad found a new love and Bev would become my stepmom in the fall of my senior year. I couldn’t have been happier that they found each other.
I was adjusted to being an adult. I survived my twenty first year, turning twenty two a week before my senior year began. At eighteen you might technically be an adult but everyone knows that twenty one is the real thing, with so much more to celebrate. We all know what that is! And can I mention that Iowa City is a great place to celebrate?
Lastly, I was adjusted to the fact that my summer camp days were over. I drove away from my fourth summer working at Twin Lakes Christian Center and I knew that I would not be returning for a fifth. Summer camp was one of the things I loved most and always proved to be a great experience. I looked forward to going every summer, so much that I would request to come early and spend a few weeks there working before the entire summer staff arrived. I knew it would not be possible for me to work there after graduation. I made many life long friendships and had so much fun spending my days lifeguarding and playing with kids at the lake. After four summers it was time to let go and leave it behind…well, at least most of it. That last summer, a significant boy followed me when I left.
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