Artiste

Sarah's running low on blog material so it's time to reach back into the archives to share some childhood memories. Tonight I will be featuring some of my finest artwork. I call it: Sarah's Artwork.

Here is my personal interpretation of Santa Claus. I made this when I was in Kindergarten. Please note the giant eyes, miniature mouth and Hitler moustache.

Here is my owl made out of egg cartons. Also Kindergarten. Apparently owls have eyebrows that they can use to stab you if you get out of line. I don't know what that gunk is by his beak. Probably snot.

I drew this in third grade. This is an eggplant. You can tell because next to it, it says, "This is an eggplant." Is it just me or is this the most terrifying eggplant you've ever seen? It's like an eggplant that you might find in "Invasion of the Body Snatchers".

Here's another one I made in third grade. It's my self portrait. Even back then I knew I would end up a coked out whore with herpes simplex 2 and a body wave.

Fourth grade. This is what haunts your dreams at night. It will come to life later, go over to your house and stare at you through your window. Don't make any sudden movements when you see it. And don't mind it's chanting and glowing red eyes.

Here is a "paper" I wrote about Native Americans. I think this was fifth grade. Please check out my cover art. I chose to go with the multi-colored Crayola markers and awful, offensive rendering of an American Indian. Although this is nothing compared to what I drew on the inside:

Nice. That thing behind the Indian is apparently some sort of shelter, though it really just looks like I drew a log going through that guy's head. If there are any Native Americans reading this, I'm sorry.

This is the pillow I sewed in eighth grade Home Economics. It's an ice cream cone. It also took me 3 times as long to make it as it took everyone else in the class to make theirs. Goddammit I hated that class. One of our tests consisted entirely of sewing on a button and a snap to a piece of fabric. That's it. I got a D. The pre-pubescent 14 year old boy sitting next to me got an A. The only other person who did worse than me was this guy Ed who used to drive to eighth grade and who missed the test because a girl drove up to the school in a convertible, and he walked out of school in the middle of class, hopped into the convertible without using the door and drove off.

I will leave you with an inspirational haiku I wrote in second grade:

Spring is very nice
It brings lots of blossoms here
The blossoms are nice