Tomorrow’s Sleeper Ave. story is the sad tale of my first experience with art school. After several months of watching me doodle obsessively, going through hundreds of pages of paper and dozens of pencils in the process, Mom and Dad recognized that my obsession with drawing was not just a passing fancy
At the same time, I started sculpting things out of clay, and evidently showed some talent in three dimensions, as well. So, they decided to get me some formal art training.
Apparently, they misunderstood the nature of my obsession. I wasn’t particularly interested in learning HOW to draw. I was totally consumed with WHAT I was drawing and sculpting.
My brief first encounter with an organized approach to learning the craft that eventually became my profession didn’t go particularly well.