S: My Sense of Place Sara Robinson
BC: My Sense of Place Sara Robinson | If I've learned nothing else, it's that time and practice equal achievement. Andre Agassi, Open: An Autobiography
FC: My Sense of Place | Sara Robinson | Growth acrylic | Windmill Colored pencil/chalk
1: Snowy day Black ink pen | Literature II Portfolio April 21,2010
2: "Where I'm from" I'm from calloused hands, from baseball caps and boots. I'm from grease and gojo and the first trailer I helped build. I'm from the lilac bush in the backyard and the sugar maple whose thick trunk still holds my name. I'm from long summers in bare feet stained in mulberries, from sun tea on the porch and tomatoes from the garden. I'm from the strong-headed and stubborn, from suck it up and pay attention. I'm from back roads with long short cuts, from peach ice cream on Friday nights and sleeping in on Saturday morning. I'm from my fathers branch of no nonsense, from corned beef and cabbage. From long winters around the wood stove when stories where told and never repeated, Where I sat listening, laughing, and dreaming. Hoping my life would be so exciting. I'm from these little moments. Memories that last a life time and a life time to make more.
3: Fortune in hand Pencil/chalk
4: You might be from Breslau if... 1. You can pronounce it correctly. 2. You know everyone by name and when they eat supper. 3. You know where everyones house key is located. 4, The lights from the ethanol plant wake you up at night. 5. You look for Breslau on every map and are surprised when you see it. 6. You get faxes addressed to your neighbor. 7.You know there are five business (6 including the ethanol plant). 8. You know that second street is the only road through "town". 9. Half the kids go to school in Osmond and the rest in Plainview. 10. Your dog gets feed pancakes and sausage by the neighbors every morning. 11. You have seen more trains than cars in a given day. 12. You check the wind direction by looking at the ethanol plant. 13. You know what old store used to be in your backyard. 14. Your feet are mulberry stained all summer long. 15. You were shocked when a speed limits sign appeared (brilliant use of county money!)
5: Barbwire Pencil/colored pencil
6: From the Farm Colored Pencil
7: "At a certain season of our lives we are accustomed to consider every spot as a possible site of a house." I agree with Thoreau because he is right. There is a time when everybody determines where the perfect place to live is. For me this time has not come yet but I have thought a great deal about where I want to spent me life. My opinion of this place has been shaped by my current place of residence: the area referred to as Breslau. Here I grew up a free spirited child. Eating fruits and vegetables out of the garden anytime I was hungry, jumping off tire swings, climbing every tree within 100 yards of my house and not returning home until it was getting dark. Having spent so much time outdoors and experiencing all the wonders of mature: twinkling stars, gorgeous sunsets, and the abundant wild life I cringe at the thought of living in a city or even a small town with traffic and commotion. I don't want to be isolated just far enough away as to not hear the noise of see any buildings. I don't know if I will ever permanently live in the area around where I was raised however I do know I want to live on a farm or ranch with hopefully and amazing view to inspire my creative side.
8: Every morning sun rays filter through the east windows casting dancing yellow light upon apple printed wallpaper. Three weaved back chairs and a long white bench, worn from many visitors, circle a large oval table reflecting the warm glow. The spindle legs rest on a dark green rug which is hiding the stone printed linoleum tattered by roller skates and toys and a ink stain left from a fallen printer cartridge. My mothers choice of holly green cabinetry arranged in a "u" shape makes up the north side of the small, rectangular kitchen. Where smells of last nights supper still linger along with a pile of dishes and the remnants of my fathers late night snack. One morning in the quiet--when only the birds were awake--light from the window illuminated a jar of beads I had left on the table the night before. Seeing the contrast of the dark background and the colorful plastic I was determined to capture it. For me each bead represents all the special moments that have happened around that table and shaped my life. Memories of the food fight that left a ketchup stain on the textured white ceiling, the bird that flew in the window and wouldn't vacate, birthday parties with cake and crowns and the scar in the table from pumpkin carving.. I grew up around that table with my brother and sisters., learning lessons that will never be forgotten.
9: Jar of life Colored pencil
10: Day on the water pencil/chalk
11: The art of fishing Long, long, long, ago--way before I was ever born--my ancestors mastered the art of fishing. For them it was purely for survival, however, over many centuries this primitive skill has evolved into much more than that. The beginning consisted of cane poles and spears. These simple tools quickly advanced as man became smarted but lazier. Fish finders, GPS, and improved lures almost took the skill out of fishing. The only thing the modern fishing can't buy is luck. But with or without it fishing has been a tradition in my family since the world began to turn. My grandfather was taught to fish in gravel pits and "puddles" by his father who was taught by his father and so on. He was exhilarated by the fight of the fish, reeling in a large mouth bass. Of course my grandmother couldn't resist and ended up a better "fisherwoman" than her husband. They loved the outdoors and passed that love to their children. Together the family wold take trips to Canada and various lakes and streams to experience what nature had to offer. The tradition still continues today with trips to the lake happening almost weekly. Last summer on a day of great heat and humidity my family when out on the lake--bait and tackle in tow--to caught some fish. We spent hours casting out line in an attempt to reel in the "big one". We did get a few but nothing spectacular. Then as quick as a lightning strike my dad yells "yet the net, i think i got something!" He was struggled to reeling the line so he reverted to pulling it in by hand.After a few minutes of tugging he finally got his caught aboard and looking down at it his face turned whiter than a library's wall as he stared with aw. There at the end of his small hook was a huge, gray ROCK. I chuckled staring at the mound of minerals and was crippled with laughter when my mother proclaimed that she was keeping it. I have to admit i have gotten more out of these adventures than just a meal. All those long hot days on the boat have given my time to appreciate the beautiful rolling hills and bluffs the line the water and the wildlife living there. The crisp air, blue skies, and green water are still vivid in my mind and even the most dreary days the river's a homey feeling.Technology may have changed but the river will always be there with its charming waters and good eats.
12: A person who changed my life Walking into the colorful art room a visitor may be bombarded by the overwhelming clutter spilling out of every cupboard and a brilliant crazy personality of the teacher who inhabits the madness. This chaotic but fun room has been my home away from home for the last three years of high school. I love creating things but there was a time when I found it difficult and there is one person who has changed that. One day in art Mrs. Wacker was giving my elementary class a demonstration on drawing. The model being a tall bottle of cobalt blue paint. She stood patently at the front of the room, pointing a yellow piece of chalk at the board, calling attention to the bottle. instructing us she said to break the object up visually into lines then draw them. Step by step she took the class through the sketch, stopping when anyone needed help and always giving encouragement but I still couldn't get the picture to look the way I thought it should. Determined and persistent I stared down that bottle then what she said clicked liked a seat buckle and for the first time I saw with fresh eyes.The cap once seeming scary and complicated became a simple oval with two lines extending downward with a curve for the end. I was surprised having never seen things in such a way. From then on I started seeing things in a new light and began to take notice to how things are constructed. Seeing them as more than flat objects and taking time to add details and shading in light and dark areas. I have since expanded on these ideas and began to notice more meticulous things: how light changes and object, the importance of an under drawing, and what elements are needed to make a transparent item seem realistic, all things which Mrs. Wacker has given me pointers on. Showing me my own abilities and how to improve on them she has taught e techniques I will use forever and has given me the confidence to create anything I can dream up.That day when I learned the key to drawing changed my life forever. I never knew it then but with the help of a favorite teacher I can see it now.
14: Little Birdy Acrylic
15: This I believe On one of my visits to Pickstown, South Dakota, I joined my family on a walk around what I call dead mans loop. An appropriate name for the three miles of black top winding down and the steep hike back up. Before not a mile had passed I found myself lagging behind. The rambunctious group--arms swinging, feet pounding--gained speed. It was like an Indy 500 of old people power walking at the mall as they rounded the corner. But in that moment when the bunch disappeared I discovered the core to my belief. In the breeze the weeds parted revealing an unfamiliar trail leading to the right. I followed the path, bumpy and overgrown, as it wound up the steep slope. I the silence the bitter fragrance of a native flowers purple came to me, the little black birds swooped playfully in the clouded sky, and I could hear leaves being rustled by the wind. As I topped the hill the entire river valley was spread before my eyes. Miles of green tree tops flanked the river whose turquoise waters flowed steadily away from the expansive dam. It was a beautiful spectacle, a local secret--passed without notice by my family and countless others before. I was sad at the though that I could have passed up such a magnificent view engulfed in competition. I believe that people get caught up in daily routine; mindlessly going through the motions and not opening their eyes to new experiences. I find myself content with my surroundings having memorized it function and not seeing the magic in its simplicity. I take for granted the suns daily rise bring a new day, barley noticing its marvelous color and forgetting the wonder of light. I believe I am blinded by technology, getting tangled in the web that holds firm on my attention. I believe that children, free from the stress of life, see more in an hour that I do in a week. They embrace new experiences exploring the world in which we live. Finding joy splashing in mud puddles, seeing shapes in clouds, and chasing rainbows:all things I seem to have out grown. I believe more can be learned through silence than any speech that has blessed my ears. I believe in seeing with all the senses. Feeling the spring rain, breathing summers hot air, and listening to the winds howl. I believe in rediscovering life through simple observation.
17: Through the barn wood Pencil
19: Where is my niche in the world? Like a journal where am I shelved? Scribbled in, added to; Where does me fairy tale begin and when will it end? Beckoning hues of dawn encompasses me cascading through my hand and brush developing streaks of color in to a chef-d' oeuvre. Country life is inscribed into my soul guiding me back to the secluded area that I call home. Encircled by civilization but completely alone. Trying to stand apart and not be noticed. hiding behind a vacant page sketching, drawing,observing, Watching birds,people, cars all different yet all the same.