fenderlove | A Passing.

I just got some very bad news. Mr. Williams, my high school art teacher, passed away earlier today. I know that he was dealing with a host of medical ailments over the past several years that had hindered his ability to work. He was a man who overcame a lot a lot in his life. He learned how to be a very talented artist even though he lacked arms below the elbows and legs below the knee. He refused to use prosthetics and learned how to draw and paint his own way. He supported my artwork and my ideas at a time when no one else did, when everyone else was telling me that I was either a talentless hack or that I didn't have a future. He pushed me really hard to be better even though I really hated drawing all those ramshackle barns he insisted I do. I really wish I had gotten to talk to him one last time. I live right across the street from the high school, and I just kick myself for not going and talking to him, to tell him that, even though his art style was so different than mine, his words meant so much. The fact that he listened to me, treated me better than the other teachers did, made such a big difference in my life and gave me hope that I would get out of this God-forsaken town and make something of myself. I wish I could have told him that I am about to have my degree, that I've interned for people in the visual arts industry, that I'm in the top 5% of my class, and that he's one of the reasons for it all.