Autobiography

Born August twenty sixth nineteen eighty-nine, my sun sign is Virgo, my moon is in Cancer, and my rising sign is Aries. My name is Violet Ye and as an artist the world is my inspiration. However, it all begins somewhere and for me my inspiration began in high school. For most students high school is a time for jokes and growth but personally art filtered its’ way to the back of my mind and grew from each day on. One never quite knows how far they can go until they are pushed, or at the very least believed in. One man stands out amongst the bland beige lockers and looks into the future of every student he passes. I began taking an art class of his in ninth grade and continued with such until my senior year. This man not only taught me the world of art I continue to love, he also showed me that you are not bound to one choice in life. Aside from being an intelligent human being he spent his free time as a pilot flying mostly in air shows and rocked every spot in town on his bass. Ever see someone play bass with a shoe? Art club show downs were always something to remember.
Between drama with friends and families fighting it becomes easy to loose yourself in the drain of high school. Looking back, if I had not had someone to keep me pushing towards my future it would have surely been lost. Beginning as a shy new girl, I left that school stronger, smarter and ready to take on the world. Of course college life beings you to a completely different reality having the preparation needed saved me from a lot of stress. I’m sure if I had a different teacher I still would have grown, still would have ventured into the art world, still would be strong. But it is knowing that I had his support that got me through the roughest times. His motto was that no one deserved a hundred in his class because to earn that you would have to come in and teach him something. So surely after years of being under his wing I came in one morning bursting with excitement for the student had finally become the master. Although I never did receive that hundred, knowing that I taught my role model how to create something new was a feeling of accomplishment greater than any number. He was a mentor, an educator, and a friend to every faculty in that school. Someone as kind hearted as him is surely more than an inspiration for art; I always looked to him for life advice and sound judgment.
Unfortunately the good die young and although he had no children of his own he treated every student with not only care but also respect. As a teenager when an elder treats you with respect, it is my hope that you tend to want nothing more than to respect them back. Had I known that my last day of high school would have been the last day I saw him, I probably would have done more to show him my gratitude. Though deep down I am sure he always knew how much his students and myself admired his humor and knowledge on a daily basis.