Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
12 x 12 inches (30 × 30 cm)
Acrylic on Board, 2025
MN-029
There was a time in 4th grade when my favorite teacher ever, Mr. Wehmeyer, taught me how to draw in perspective. It totally blew my mind. It was the first time a teacher had taken an interest in me. Looking back, 4th grade was also the year the adults in my life should have discovered that I was dyslexic, if not actually diagnosing me with neurodivergence.
So I get this amazing skill that lets me start to create the things in my mind, at least the buildings, by only using paper, pencil, a ruler, and two dots. My mind was truly blown.
I was obsessed. I kept pushing the bounds of what was possible to draw with two-point perspective. I experimented with other types of perspective. I was a huge upgrade from the graph paper that had been my only drawing tool before then. I was actually able to see things on paper that were from my imagination.
My imagination ate it up!
It was a nice consolation prize to the otherwise horrid experience of being in school with undiagnosed differences that prevented me from social integration.
12 x 12 inches (30 × 30 cm)
Acrylic on Board, 2025
MN-029
There was a time in 4th grade when my favorite teacher ever, Mr. Wehmeyer, taught me how to draw in perspective. It totally blew my mind. It was the first time a teacher had taken an interest in me. Looking back, 4th grade was also the year the adults in my life should have discovered that I was dyslexic, if not actually diagnosing me with neurodivergence.
So I get this amazing skill that lets me start to create the things in my mind, at least the buildings, by only using paper, pencil, a ruler, and two dots. My mind was truly blown.
I was obsessed. I kept pushing the bounds of what was possible to draw with two-point perspective. I experimented with other types of perspective. I was a huge upgrade from the graph paper that had been my only drawing tool before then. I was actually able to see things on paper that were from my imagination.
My imagination ate it up!
It was a nice consolation prize to the otherwise horrid experience of being in school with undiagnosed differences that prevented me from social integration.