Sunday, September 14, 2014

It's all Mrs Pebble's fault

I was assigned to Mrs. Pebble in sixth grade.

Hideously shy and out of sync with the rest of the planet, I would have skated through her class lost in the shadows if she hadn't took and interest in me.

She announced one afternoon that our collectively the classes handwriting was atrocious and we needed to work on that.  So we stopped the regular class and she taught us calligraphy.

It worked in helping our handwriting become legible!

I, at the time, was in the infancy of my cartooning skills. I was drawing eyeballs all over the margins of my papers instead of doodles.

The calligraphy pen assigned to me had purple ink.

And the rest was history. My writing became legible so others could actually READ my stories, and with a new pen to mess with I started adding eyebrows to my eyes.

Her laughter at my eyeballs and the sudden attention of a kind wonderful soul, helped me to want to reach out to get positive attention from others. She was among my first fans. It's her fault I kept drawing and didn't give up.

Her smiles and laughter lead the charge of wanting to make others react to my writing/drawings.

She awarded me this award. By doing so she gave me one of the greatest gifts I have ever received. Acknowledgement that I was indeed unique and one of a kind, and more than that, it was perfectly okay to be so.

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