Wendall Horton Literacy Autobiography Ms.

Rand 11 September 2013

Jack Britt consists of 4 square wings with one wing attached to each corner of a square atrium. After gorging myself with synthetic meat and artificial preservatives, I left the atrium and headed towards B-100 hall at the front of the building. In that hall, the arts were hidden among the gray lockers, walls, and floors. Like most days, I took a quick sip at the water fountain and discretely swished the food out of my teeth. The entire mass of students around me funneled through the single set of double doors as we shuffled our way into B-100 hall. I took an immediate right to break out of the crowd since most people continued straight. After one more turn to the left, I saw my art classroom hidden to the right amongst the sea of lockers. Directly across from the classroom, my art teacher, Mr. Middleton, sat hunched over in a one-piece desk working diligently on a watercolor. In his composition, he depicted the silhouettes and subtle details of approaching zombies with a skillful use of grayscale. Upon entering the classroom, the din of underclassmen chatting wildly finishing stories and conversations from lunch filled the room. I sorted through the papers on the drying rack to admire the interpretive color wheel I completed earlier that week. The project lasted almost two and a half weeks, but I felt such pride holding the final product in my hands. I stood up and wondered towards my desk surveying the tables of art supplies and thinking of the next projects Mr. Middleton wanted our class to do. An abstract, monochromatic acrylic sounds

interesting, but what about the 3-D perspective study? I talked with Hope, a freshman girl who sat next to me, and considered the creative possibilities of both, but I only had enough time to do one. After cycling the choices in my mind, I decided to go ask Mr. Middletons opinion on the matter. Hey, Mr. Middleton. I know we have the two acrylic projects, but my color wheel took a lot longer than I had expected, so I dont think theres any way I can do both of them before we get to sculptures. Yeah, youre right. Theres not enough time for both. Well, I dont really know which one I should do. Wendall, I know you can paint a bunch of purple squares on a piece of paper. Its not hard. Actually, you know what? You dont have to do either of those assignments I want you to do a watercolor. Heh, a watercolor? Yeah, a watercolor. Pick one of the pictures from the portfolio you made. Try to find one with water or a landscape of some type. Umm, Ive never done a watercolor before. Well, I have, but not as an actual project. If you want a dark, rich color use less water in your brush or add black. If you want a fainter color, use more water in your brush. You have to experiment with your colors, so start by grabbing some watercolors and some brushes and just play around. Try different colors or amounts of water. You have to feel through the brush. Ok, but inside I was not okay. I felt terrified. Terrified of the unknown. A new, unexplored realm of watercolor.

I hesitantly turned around and walked back to my pod. Hope looked up at me, and I returned her glance with a horror-stricken face. What did Mr. Middleton say? He wants me to do a watercolor I have no idea what Im doing. Hahaha, good luck with that. Hahaha, thanks. I grabbed my sketch book, a cup of water, a tray of watercolors, and a bunch of paper towel, as Mr. Middleton instructed me, and sat there. I stared at the off-white rectangle in front of me. WATERCOLOR!?! How am I supposed to do this? I did exactly as he told me and started messing around. I mixed colors, tried drying the brush a little, and covered my paper in blotches of color. It looked like nothing, but it was the first step to feeling through the brush. After I filled the page, my attention switched to choosing which photograph to recreate. My portfolio consisted of 20 photos ranging from a baby, to buildings, to landscapes, to animals, to people. Hmmmm. A landscape involving waterThis beach house has water in the background. No, theres too much blue. Oh, this one has the sunset shining on a mountain and a small farm. Its so beautiful, but I dont know if I can paint mountains. Well, how about this one. The rollercoaster is about to dive down a mountain. Its a gorgeous landscape and there are so many trees. Theres no water, but that doesnt matter too much. No, wait, I forgot about this picture. The buildings are so geometrical and the blue looks so cool accented by the orange. Theres so many colors and dimensions. And theres water! Ugh, Im stuck. Do I do the beautiful landscape or the vibrant cityscape? I love details, and the sea of trees wont let me

focus on the details, it would be exhausting if I did. Ill do the cityscape. Its geometrical, and exact. I like that, this one should be fun to do. With my ruler in hand, I set out to begin sketching my watercolor. The photo was approximately the same ratio as my piece of paper, so tried to create a conversion factor between the two papers, but it only worked for determining lengths. Because the photo looked at the cluster of buildings from an offset angle, the faces of the buildings were slanted. I used reference points to estimate the degree of angles and then connected the lines. By the fifth or sixth class period of working on my sketch, I thought I would never finish it. It seemed like I was slaving over every detail of the photo, but to me, my watercolor would be incomplete if I didnt include most every detail. With the sketch complete, I could finally move onto painting. In working with the watercolors, I tried to avoid mixing colors in the tray, so I used a separate pallet to mix watercolors. I started in the top corner of the farthest left building. Looking at the color of that corner, I rubbed my wet brush in the blue pigment and swiped it on my experimentation page. It was too bright and didnt have enough of a green hue. I grabbed some green and mixed it in the pallet. It was blue-green, but still too bright, so I added black. When the next swipe turned out black, I realized I added too much black. To fix that, I added more blue, a little green, and more water. When the color in my pallet matched the color in the corner, I carefully painted the respective area within the lines of my sketch. As the hue of the building transitioned between shades of blue and green, I continued this pattern of experimentation and color mixing. After five or six 90-minute classes, I finally finishing the first of three buildings, and I was exhausted. I rationalized that it kind of looked cool unfinished. Having the watercolor

surrounded by a pencil sketch sort of accented the one building. My teacher didnt agree. He didnt tell me to finish the piece, he said he wanted me to finish it. [TO BE CONTINUED] Separate from the surrounding woods and farmland, he crouched on his angular lot and pondered the pursuit of knowledge. His chiseled, angular face peered intently into the far reaches of pine trees in the distance. A mysterious translucent pyramid adorned his head; fittingly reminiscent of the mysterious innovations of ancient Egyptians. With his astute stance and solid foundation, he became a beacon of academics and knowledge. While the sun dropped behind him, he continued to peer into the darkness of a fresh night. As I observed him, I longed to discover the source of his understanding and insight. What is at the core of Jack Britt High School? What is it like on the inside? What fuels this ambiance of academic achievement I wondered. Two years after attending Washington-Lee, I approached a brick faade and six sets of purple double doors; a gateway into the mysterious core of Jack Britt. Upon opening the second set of doors, I discovered a disheartening answer to my questions. I walked into a vast expanse of gray; gray staircases, gray railings, gray walls, gray acoustic tiles, gray floor tiles, dark gray accent floor tiles, and twenty-eight massive gray columns. The monotony surrounding me overpowered any sense of creativity or freedom though they existed in limited amounts. As my eyes strayed skyward into the pyramidal, translucent atrium, I saw a beautiful arrangement of clouds framed by a vibrant blue sky. This reminded me to search for or introduce creativity in Jack Britt. As I drove around a corner and the mornings mist hovered over the ground, her magnificent figure gradually appeared from behind a cluster of townhouses and trees.

Towering over Ballston with her stout figure, she exemplified the grandeur of education, expression, and emotion. She wore distinct bands of deep brown, burnt orange, and rich cream. In the morning sunrise, the silver spires shimmered upon her head reflecting the pinks, blues, and oranges of the sky. I walked under the spires of silver and through her towering doors, and to my contentment, her beauty extended beyond her exterior. The main hall of WashingtonLee High School was flanked by silver beams, and the floor was covered with a random assortment of blue and yellow tiles. A glass wall to my right revealed the cafeteria and commons. Although the halls were void of life, this new environment exuded the excitement and energy of life. From the building alone, I concluded that Washington-Lee valued creativity, innovation, and unconventional thinking in education; the beginnings of a wonderful freshman year.