Читать книгу Finding the Sun Through the Clouds - Dawnmarie Deshaies - Страница 11

Chapter 6

High School, Young Adulthood, Emerging Phantoms, and Dreams

As my adolescence continued, I attended Norwich Academy of Fine Arts. From the age of thirteen to eighteen, I was influenced by this school in ways that helped me make the most of my life during this time. I went to work after school every day. I liked my job because I was making money for myself, but I loved everything about school. My passions resided in learning. I treasured all my fine art classes, and I had my favorite teachers instructing these classes. I felt alive painting. My inspiration for designing a love language in my own artistic fashion pushed my imagination to the limits. I began to imagine myself as one of the masters of impressionist and Renaissance art, like van Gogh, Monet, and da Vinci. While studying the work of the masters, I picked each individual detail that I admired from so many artists and developed my own art style. I created beauty with a black canvas, the art that poured from my fingertips striking me with emotion with each stroke. I poured everything into my art. The good, the bad, the ugly all represented aspects of my being expunged onto the canvas. My three favorite artists are Claude Monet, Leonardo da Vinci, and Vincent van Gogh. I always enjoyed reading their history and admiring their lifeworks. Could it be possible that I can create my own legacy of design? I hope to share my art with the world so you can see me for who I am. My mind is as beautiful as my body.

From admiring their works, I promised myself and my teachers that I will make it to Paris one day to self-actualize my belief in becoming a master by studying the physical copies existing in the art capital of the world. They would always smile and say, “I hope so, Dawnmarie. Your work needs to be seen and admired.” To this very day, I still have some of my old drawings and painting from school, and my mother still has some of her favorites as well.

Art classes made me feel so alive and vibrant. I had a special bond with all the art students. The constant influx of shared ideas and discussions on different techniques boosted my creativity always to continue developing new pieces of work. My classmates and I still hung out together. We had lunch together and always did things on the weekends for school projects for art classes. I began to achieve As in all my classes. From working hard in my studies and out of school to keep a B+, I managed to stay above to average grades with a 3.0 all four years and worked twenty-five hours a week as well.

Of course, some of you are probably wondering about my early love life. Well, I dated the same boy for over five years. His name was John. I honestly thought he was the person I was going to marry; he even gave me an engagement ring after I graduated from art school. He was all I knew between school, working, and everyday life.

After graduating from school, I moved out of my parents’ home and got my own apartment. There weren’t any jobs in the art field and I had to pay bills, so I started working in New London, Connecticut. I worked at the mall full-time, and before I knew it, I was an assistant manager. My career was moving fast. I was promoted again to a larger store as the manager after just six months. I was engaged to John, but I knew deep down inside I wanted more in my life. I had dreams of still being a princess taken away by a knight in shining armor, and he wasn’t taking my breath away from the way I needed it. His dreams did not resonate with me, and I didn’t want to settle for anything less. It was hard breaking up with him. First love is a confusing game. It’s a maze of discovery and contemplation. Which choice should I make when I have an engagement ring on my finger but I cannot imagine a future with this person, so he obviously could not be the one? He was my only boyfriend then. I lost my virginity to him, and I loved him, but love and desire are often intertwined with each other, and it’s hard to separate the two, especially at such a young age. He worked hard, but he never really had plans to move and make something of himself. He was comfortable, and I wanted more for my life. I realized that if he loved me, he would follow, but he didn’t, so I let him go. I had bigger plans for myself and my dreams.

I had so many dreams as a young woman graduating from school. I thought after high school and college, I was going to move to New York City. Well, little did I know it was so hard to get into the doors of any design company or even any art studios. You had to know someone in the field already working there, and I didn’t know anyone. Working in retail, I was able to use my design background to work on floor moves and designs for the stores. I implemented myself where I could, and I enjoyed using my art background where I could, but I knew I could achieve more with my prowess.

I really enjoyed my job, and like before, I was asked to move to a new company called Butler Shoes. They moved me to their big store in New London, Connecticut. I worked with them for two years, and then another company recruited me. The company was called Rainbow Shops; it was a women’s apparel company. As an area manager, I was running five stores. I was working long hours and traveled a lot. Looking back today on my life at that time, I realize I saw my work ethic being tested, and I never gave up. As my asthma attacks lingered from childhood, they intruded less and less as I grew older.

As I continued working and traveling, I believe my symptoms for an early-prognosis MS started to show itself. I was organizing floor moves in all the stores after-hours when I began to lose feeling in my hands, like pins and needles were silently pressing onto my skin. I started to drop things as I worked, like my muscles just let go, and I had no idea why I just made it happen. My vision also became blurred during strenuous activity, but with all these symptoms starting to arise, I figured, working long, hard hours, much like anyone else, it was a result of excessive tiredness. So I kept on moving along with that smile on my face. The same smile I learned so early on to put up to hide the pain of all my other woes.

As with all things, my life continued, despite my body sending me constant feedback to slow down the continuous wave of work. With my mother’s words resonating in the back of my head, “Never give up, you need to keep moving forward,” I pushed through the pain, which at that time was far away from what I began to feel later. With such a small amount of life under my belt, working was pretty much all I knew at that time. I thought that if I continued improving my career, I would become the success I dreamed about so much since I was a child. If I was sick, I still pulled myself from underneath the sheets because bills still needed to be paid, and without working, that would never happen. Like Mom said, “Smile like you have nothing to worry about.” With the growing confidence of an up-and-coming career, I didn’t let anything slow me down.