March’s story, ‘An Opportunity to See’, is told in first person/present tense by the main character, Megan. Each day will have a pair of photos that go along with and represent the art project that Megan is creating.
Day 1:
I feel dread. My stomach is clenching, I’m feeling nauseous and I think I’m going to be sick. The words stare up at me from the paper: ‘Megan, please come see me after class’. Apparently, there’s something wrong with my project proposal, at least I hope so. I hope the other students leave soon so that I don’t have a panic attack in front of them. It’s fine, I’m fine, he just wants to talk. It’s not like being called to the principal’s office, oh gosh, I’m going to be sick. Treat it like a bandaid, Megan, just rip it off. Get it done and over with…then run away.
Day 2:
I’m not the only one that Professor Landing wants to see. In fact, there’re four of us standing in the hall. What’s the phrase . . . misery loves company? I know I just prayed for the students to all leave so they wouldn’t see me in panic mode, but knowing that I’m not alone makes this seem less painful. Not by much, but less. The proposal is still in my hands, slightly wrinkled now. I try to smooth it out a bit. Maybe I’m not failing this class. I can’t fail, I can’t even afford to retake it. I need this class, I need to pass and do well. There are higher level classes that I need to take and I need this class to take them. Can I, oh shoot, it’s my turn. Deep breaths, Megan, one foot in front of the other. You got this. You can survive this, girl.
Day 3:
I sit across from my professor, his desk in between us. My project proposal is on the desk, a ticking time bomb that matches my heartbeat. I say nothing, keep my eyes firmly on the desk, my hands clenched in my lap. My professor is the first one to talk. “Do you know why I had you come in, Megan?” Well no, not really, maybe, I was panicking too much to really think it through. “For this project, using geometric shapes in your work, you need to show me how you see the world.
Your mock-up sketches are nice, very good in fact, but I can’t tell that you were the one to draw them. What makes them you?” I’m not in trouble, but I am. I still messed up.
Day 4:
My brain starts to work again. “But I took the photos those sketches are based on..doesn’t that show how I see the world?” I pull out my phone, trying to get my fingers to quickly and calmly find the photos. Once found, I hand the phone to Professor Landing who takes a closer look at the images. I inch away, awaiting his response. “I gave the class a list of mediums to choose from for this project. Why didn’t you choose photography for yours?” Well, that’s not where I thought this conversation was going. “I wanted to improve my pencil sketches and thought they would go well with the geometric shapes.” He gives me the look that says my answer wasn’t right. “Megan, the majority of your assignments have been done in pencil. Why don’t you do photography this time, let your eyes do more of the hard work instead of your hands?” He stands up and walks to the far corner shelves, before returning with a box. From inside, he pulls out a bag of cardboard stencils. “I keep these on hand to help give students a nudge if needed. Maybe they’ll give you some new ideas for this project.” I take the bag and realize that with his nod, the conversation is over. I am back at square one.
Day 5:
I’m back in my apartment, sitting on the living room floor with the cardboard shapes spread out in front of me. Spencer, my best friend and roommate, sits opposite me. As I haven’t moved since coming home, she started playing to see if she could get tiny paper balls to land in the center of each cutout. She’s good for 50% so far. “Photography and these,” she says, “sounds like a good project to me.” I stretch my legs out, trying not to disturb the shapes. “I don’t want to do photos, Spence, I want to draw.” She shrugs her shoulders, “So this time you get to try something else. It’s not as if this project is going to determine your career.” I scrunch my face, not liking when she’s right. “What would you suggest then? I’ve been staring at these shapes for 2 hours and I’ve got nothing.” She flicks another paper ball, which joins the other missed attempts surrounding the shapes. “Well, Megs, it would probably help if they weren’t on the floor.” She laughs as my alarm goes off, signaling bedtime. Helping me up, we both head back to our rooms, the shapes still on the floor.
Day 6:
I wake up, it’s Sunday and I want to cry. I need to turn in my revised proposal on Monday, aka tomorrow, and I still have no idea what to do. Why I am an art major, I don’t know. I’m gonna have an ulcer by the time I graduate, I just know it. I’m greeted in the living room by a floor covered in cardboard cutouts and tiny paper balls. I should clean them up, but I don’t. Instead, I stretch out on the carpet, right up against the couch. A couple of cutouts are within reach. Spencer walks out of her room, into the kitchen and sees me on the floor. She doesn’t even blink. I start fiddling with the closest cutout, as I look at the crumpled paper through the hole. I hear Spence banging pots and pans together, her idea of a proper Sunday morning breakfast. “Geez, Spence, from this angle, it looks like there was an explosion. How much paper did you use?” She comes and joins me on the floor, breakfast forgotten for the moment. “This is actually pretty cool, Megs, the paper almost looks bigger seeing it through the window.” I look at the cutout, then look at her. It must be Sunday because a miracle has just occurred.
Day 7:
It’s Wednesday and I’m waiting to find out if my Miracle project, which I have been calling it, will meet approval. Am I stressed? Yes, but by now, with this project, with this class, that’s a given. I look around and I am not alone. It’s like a secret society, seeing other students have the same face and I know, we all know what each other is thinking. Finally, FINALLY, the TA, Brad, walks into class, a stack of papers in his hands. It’s them, they’ve arrived, oh no, now my stomach is starting to cramp up. What must it be like to be someone who doesn’t get anxious about all the things? Brad passes by my desk, drops my proposal on my desk and moves on. I don’t even have to stress about turning it over because it’s face up. It’s approved. I’m so relieved, I could cry. I don’t. Instead, the lecture passes by me in a blur as all I can focus on now is moving forward with my project.
Day 8:
I haven’t been this hands-on with an art project in a while, which is saying something because I do all my sketches by hand. Rather than use the cutouts from Professor Landing, I decide to make my own version using sketchbook papers. It kind of adds a little bit of me. But more than that, it is surprisingly relaxing. I, me, am doing more to bring this project to life than any previous project I’ve done. By myself, that is. I find myself staring at my hands in between cutout frames. I’m doing something artistic without getting charcoal or lead smudges on the sides of my palms. Why do I only do pencil sketches? I never did ceramics, pottery, not even much of painting. I finish the last frame, ten in total, and I deserve a pat on the back because I did not cut myself. My fingers survived.
Day 9:
It’s raining and I am one unhappy camper. Don’t get me wrong, I love the rain. I love listening to the rain outside while I read or draw inside. But that doesn’t help me now. I need to take photos outside. The frames to be used in said photos are paper. Well, Megan, why don’t you just bring an umbrella? Because alas my luck sucks. It’s not only raining, it’s windy and there is no way whatsoever that my frames would survive. Does this mean I have to work on homework for other classes? I frown as my econ textbook stares back at me from my open backpack. It’s going to be a long night.
Day 10:
I don’t know what I did to gain the blessing of the apartment gods with my roommate, Spencer, but I’m so grateful for her. I tried to take photos by myself yesterday and, well, that failed. The frames, even though I think they look great, are pretty flimsy and even the slightest bit of wind ruins my shots. So Spencer is my hand model. Since this project is worth 25% of my grade, I need a lot of photos. As in 31 of them, make that 62. We’re starting in Provo because it’s close to our apartment, but I really want to go to Salt Lake City as well. It’s one of my favorite places in the world and there are some fun buildings that I think will go well with this project. I’ll just have to wait and see how today goes because I’m thinking we will get a lot of photos done, maybe enough for the project altogether.
Day 11:
I just got done with my first batch of photos, and two things have I learned. One, people give you weird looks if they drive by, seeing you and a friend holding up paper and taking pictures in the middle of town. I pray that I know none of those people. Two, I am so very, very grateful to be an arts major. Thanks to my major, I have a legitimate reason for stopping periodically on the sidewalk, opening my backpack, choosing a frame and taking a photo while Spencer holds the frame for me. Call it insurance. I don’t get stressed out while working with a reason. Such times are a breath of fresh air for my overthinking, anxious mind.
Day 12:
Thanks to Google, I am able to find a free photo editing app for my phone. I’ve never spent much time with photography, certainly never with editing either. So the first night that I have the app, it is both frustrating and blissful. Despite the high learning curve for me, it is eye-opening. I get lost in the colors, lighting, the gorgeous details that I get to bring forward, rather than leave in the shadows. By the time Spence comes home from work, I have music playing and I am sketching copies of my photos, not to recreate the photos, but to try to bring them further than they are. I should be working on my project, but I want to see if I can create the details that the photos bring out.
Day 13:
I turn in my first selection of photos today. Between editing, printing and organizing, I spent a good 4-5 hours putting it together. In the meantime, Spencer decided to follow my example of making her own cutouts. Not for photos, of course. She’s got 6 cardboard cutouts hanging from our living room ceiling. With a jar of tiny rubber balls, paper balls and anything easily tossed, she seems to have found a constant source of entertainment. I practice too because I just know that competitions are coming. Considering I still need well over two dozen photos for this project, I need to beat Spence at least once, maybe twice to get her to help again. Of course, she will probably just agree to help if she’s free, but this will be much more fun.
Day 14:
As I walk out of my morning econ class, Spencer’s waiting for me, waving a flyer. “Megs, I gotta go to Salt Lake for a thing, it’s this evening but let’s get you some pictures.” Skip my next class? Well, I mean, it is to do work for another class…call me crazy, but that sounds like a reasonable excuse. We swing by our apartment because I didn’t know that I would need to have my frames on hand today. Thankfully, they’re out in the open on my desk, so it’s only a quick stop before we get back on the road. Oh, I should probably figure out where I want to get pictures. That might be smart to figure out before we actually get there.
Day 15:
Going to Salt Lake City was both a good and bad idea. Don’t get me wrong, it is one of my favorite cities but let’s be real. My feet hurt. We walked a lot. So many steps. It was my fault, definitely my fault. I wanted to get pictures at a few specific locations, Spence agreed to help (because she’s a champ and I didn’t even have to beat her at our new game), but like an idiot, I didn’t map out where I wanted to go. We did find some cool buildings as we walked, ones that neither one of us had ever seen before so that was a plus. I think that if it wasn’t for our feet (my feet), we could have kept on walking for hours. But that’s not what happening. Now I need to sit and get my feet in hot water before they fall off.
Day 16:
I’m sitting in class, waiting to find out what I got on that first chunk of photos. Very Déjà vu-like, considering I was in this same anxious mode just a couple of weeks ago. Wait, does that count as Déjà vu? Same seat, same anxious feeling. Yes? No? I don’t know, my brain hurts thinking about it. I realize, looking around, that I don’t know many people by their names. I recognize them, and possibly even pick their art project out of line-up, but I lack the skill to remember names. Good ol’ Brad, the TA, comes in and I breathe a little easier. Just a smidge. Wait..was this my reaction last time as well? Oh laws, I’m a mess. But apparently not my project. Paper-clipped to the front of my submission is the grading rubric and blessed day, I got an A. I could cry..yeah, yep, this is a repeat. I need food.
Day 17:
Spence and I make another trip to downtown Provo. The weather has been acting up, even snowing, and I am determined to get the remaining pictures I need today. “Megs, are you allowed to have multiple photos of the same building in this project?” Spence passes me the frame she was just holding so that I can put it away safely. We start walking down Center Street, hopefully towards a new location. “Yes and no.” She pulls me back as I almost step sideways off the curb on to the street. “Thanks. Yes, if the majority of my photos are from the same few buildings. But it’s okay if I don’t do it that often AND if the only thing similar is the building, not the angle.” I stop and peek into the window of an empty building. “Spence, check it out. It looks like an outdoor courtyard, fountain and all.” Too bad I can’t actually go inside the building. Now that would make for a good photo.
Day 18:
We’re still on Center Street, up just barely on the grounds of the Provo City Center Temple. Just a few shots here and I will have all the photos I need. All 62 of them. “Megs, next time you need help with, well, anything really, please tell me how much help you need.” Spencer collapses on to one of the many benches. “62 photos, 31 with me, is quite a lot.” Rather than sit, she sprawls, her long arms and legs taking up most of bench. I sit opposite her, on the round stone garden wall. At least, that’s how I describe it. In another life, it could have been a fountain. I just don’t know. “Have I mentioned how much of a champ you are, Spence? Top notch, Queen of Provo, Spencer Wells, ladies and gentlemen.” I gesture towards her as my voice raises, a bridal party walking around the temple. Laughing, we quickly realize they are heading our way and we are not about to be wedding crashers. “Not that they wouldn’t refuse the Queen, right, Megs?” We leave the temple grounds, safely on Center Street once more.
Day 19:
Sometimes I’m smart, sometimes I’m not, but I would like to say that right now, at this moment, I am smart. Why? Because it’s midterms and I only have two classes with actual tests. Every other class is an art class and since we’re in the middle of semester projects, we just have consultations. So to younger me, who got a lot of general classes out of the way, I thank you. I still have those two tests, but it will be much easier for me to focus on just the two and get back to work quickly on my art projects. Because at least with my projects, I know that I can get them done. Maybe this photo project has helped, but I don’t feel quite so anxious about the consultations either. It’s just talking. I can do that. Oh, I should probably go sign up now before all the good time slots are gone. Go, Megan, go.
Day 20:
Consultation time. I’m sitting opposite my professor, the exact same spot where I was sitting weeks ago. But this time, I don’t feel so panicky. Probably because I got an A on the first project submission, so I have a bit of a foundation underneath me, something to stand on. “How’s the project going, Megan?” he looks at me, already knowing the answer. “I’m actually pleasantly surprised at how it’s going,” I nod, “it’s been a lot of fun working with the photos, editing them, and since it’s digital, it’s easier to go back and make changes if I need to.” He turns his computer screen towards me, one of my photo pairs showing. “I’ve been impressed with what you came up with. It’s one thing to read about it in a proposal, but to see it come to life is always a delight.” I grin, and that’s when he drops the bomb. “I’d like you to enter the student showcase for this semester. With your photos.” Yep, I knew it was too good to last.
Day 21:
I lean forward, my elbow on his desk, my head in my hand. I’ve barely blinked in the 30 some-odd seconds since he brought up the showcase. Sure, I know about the showcase. Mainly for seniors, though other art students are eligible with professor approval. “I won’t lie, I’ve enjoyed learning more about photography and editing photos. Yes, I have discovered an additional art skill that I will continue to use. But I want to focus on sketches,” I reach for my backpack, fiddling inside as I continue talking, “and I’ve been sketching my photos to try to capture and enhance what they show.” I flip open my sketchpad to my most recent drawing, and place it on the desk. “Capturing what I see through the camera and then bringing it to life on the page has pushed me further than just sketching alone.” Nodding, Professor Landing thumbs through the sketchpad, before coming to the sketch that matched the photo still on his screen.
Day 22:
Professor Landing is looking down at my drawing which gives me a chance to sneak a peek at my watch, It’s only been 10 minutes, but it feels like I’ve been in here far longer. “You’re a sophomore, aren’t you? Have you registered for classes for next semester?” I sit up straight, even though he’s still looking at the drawing. “Yes sir, I registered earlier this week, and I’m on the waitlist for a couple of the advanced drawing classes.” Now he looks up, “I really think you should consider focusing on drawing as well as photography. It will be hard, but won’t be as difficult as doing a full double major, but I believe it will better your career as an artist.” I readjust in my seat. “Professor Landing, what you say makes sense, but even if it was the easiest thing to focus on both, that would just add too much and push back graduation more than I’d like.”
Day 23:
“If I sound naive, I’m sorry, but I just don’t see how I can afford to double the art classes when I can’t see if it will be even be worth it career wise in the end.” Nodding, Professor Landing spins in his chair to another of his desks and rifles through the papers on top. Returning to the desk in front of me, he passes me a flyer, the one for the Student Showcase that was plastered all over the arts building. “I have a challenge for you, Megan, one that you might like, or you might not.” I nod, eyeballing the info on the flyer, as he continues on. “I want you to choose your best pair of photos from this project, and do a drawing of the revealed photo. Then at the showcase, we will exhibit all three images, and set up a stand that allows viewers to vote on if they like the photos better, or your drawing. If your drawing gets the majority, I’ll not say another word about it. But if your photos get the majority, then I’d like you to sign up for at least 1 class next semester that focuses on photography. Are you up for the challenge?” I’ve seen the voting stations before, during previous showcases, so while I’m not a fan of my work being judged like that, deep down I know that it’s what I need to do.
Day 24:
I haven’t seen my friends all week, and barely even Spencer, though we live together. Besides classes, I’ve been holed up in my room, working on these photos. All of the remaining photos for this project, which while it isn’t a TON of work (compared to what I’ve done for other classes), there are still a lot of photos and I get lost in the editing. Having the time alone has really allowed me to think, reflect, what have you, about what I want to do next. I agreed to do the showcase challenge, partly because I know, even if I don’t like it, that I won’t survive as an artist if I can’t take criticism. I just won’t. And an art career is low on stability, especially when you’re just starting out. If I want to do this long term, and I do, I need to suck it up. At least here at school, I’m in a somewhat safe space where I can experiment and find out what I can do to give myself my best chance in this industry.
Day 25:
I enlist Spence’s help in picking which photo I’ll sketch for the showcase. I had done sketches on other pictures, but they weren’t “showcase ready” like this one needs to be. Spence is clicking through photos while I get all of my drawing stuff together: the pad, the pencils, extra paper to keep my hand from smudging the sketch. “Hey did you see this one has a heart on the wall?” Spence turns my laptop towards me as I lean close. “Oh yeah, I hadn’t realized it was there when I was taking the picture, only during editing. I think that’s the only ‘surprise find’ I had from any of these pictures.” We both look at each other and I nod. “My Queen, you are indeed the best.” With photo chosen, I can now get to work.
Day 26:
Today’s the day. Not the showcase, praise be, but turning in my last batch of photos. I’m ready to have one less thing on my plate, if only so I can add a bajillion more things to it. Lies, I won’t do that. With the showcase coming up, and a decent number of students in my class who are either participating or helping those who are, we don’t actually have class today. Instead we just need to drop off our project pieces and we can leave to work on the Showcase or just have the day off. Best day ever. The moment I add my binder to the other projects, I get a little giddy. I have so much free time, what to do, what to do. Something involving food, I imagine. It seems several other students from class have the same idea when I see them in various lines at the campus food court. I’m about to get in line when I remember that I too need to work on my Showcase project. I stare longingly at the sandwich counter and think, well I can’t produce good work on an empty stomach. I get in line right before the lunch rush hits.
Day 27:
As I carry my showcase pieces across campus to the arts building, I am reminded how good it is that I focus on drawing (and apparently photography as well), and not ceramics or sculptures. I still have to be careful as I walk with these pieces, but they’re not as fragile and I don’t have to stress about transporting them. I enter the arts building, and several of the bigger pieces, large canvases and sculpture work, are already in place for the showcase. Heading to one of the large music practice rooms (that we art majors had taken hostage as the drop-off location for our submissions), I see Brad at one of several check-in tables. Ceramics to be specific. Initialing next to my name and submission title, it’s official. I am a part of this semester’s showcase. It’s only after I walk back into the main hall of the building that I realize that I didn’t feel anxiety while dropping off my entry. And I feel pretty darn good about that.
Day 28:
There’s a lot of hustling and bustling going on in the arts building as everyone sets up for the showcase. Several students (all TAs in the intro and lower classes), including Brad, are working with a group of seniors to hang up paintings and make sure the lighting matches what each artist wants. I sit and watch them, waiting for one of the TAs to be available because I have no idea how Professor Landing wants mine set up. Since I also have a set up for viewer votes, I need help. Spence comes and watches with me during her break between classes, pointing out which ready pieces she likes so far and providing entertaining commentary on the set up process. “Megan, Landing told me what you’re doing. Come on back, we’ve got it started.” Brad calls from across the hall. “Have fun Megs, I’m gonna head to class.” With a hug, Spence is gone and I’m off to see how my work looks on display.
Day 29:
It’s the opening night of the showcase. The showcase itself will last for 3 days, but tonight is the gala, aka fancy night. I’m wearing a new dress, new shoes and all I need to do is stand by my project and answer questions. I’m standing close enough but far enough back that they can enjoy the project and vote at their discretion. So really, I’ve just been standing here quietly most of the night. It makes for some great people watching though. I can pick out the difference between the arts students and other students, which are community members (adult-adults) and which are professors from around the university, and then I can recognize members of the local and university press. Spencer waves to me from the second floor, I wave back and then go back to smiling and nodding as visitors walk by. My cheeks are going to hurt by the end of the night.
Day 30:
The week of the Showcase goes by in a blur of light, colors, sounds and the vote box filling up. Okay, so that was just the gala night and the vote box didn’t fill up that much. I was impressed at how much it did fill that first night, but the rest of the showcase I have to worry about other classes, classes with grades and homework and upcoming finals. Now I sit in my visual arts class, waiting for class to end so I can ask Professor Landing what the final result is. Brad was no help when I tried asking before class. So I wait. Class ends and I jump up really fast, which gets me a weird glance or two from other students nearby. I hurry to the front and wait in the small line to talk to Landing. When it’s my turn, he hands me a folded sheet of paper. “I think this showcase has helped you more to grow than you have ever shown in 2 years, Megan. I hope you continue to grow as an artist.” That feeling I had all week at the back of my mind gets stronger as I take the paper. I don’t respond, merely nodding and leaving, paper still folded.
Day 31:
6 months later
I see Spencer up ahead, waiting by the trail sign. Ever the queen for helping me out with projects, she’s also the better hiker and knows where to find the best views along the trail. “Kim texted, she said they’re on their way.” Spence nods, before stepping behind me and opening up the bag. “Where’s the camera? You should have it out.” She pulls the camera bag out, one I had rented on campus along with the camera itself, from the bottom of the bag, easing it up past the sketchpad and pencil case. As I zip my backpack closed, I hear my name called from behind us. Looking back, I see two of the girls from my intro to photography class, Michelle and Kim. They’re about as good at hiking as I am, so since they’re also doing outdoor shots for our next project, they were happy to find out that Spencer was coming along. As we start up the trail, my mind is already racing through ideas for this next project. After getting nearly 50% on my showcase votes for both mediums, I’ve been exploring ways to combine the two to create something special. It’s allowed me to see more and do better than I ever thought possible.
Click here to access the rest of the stories from the One Year, Twelve Stories project
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