I PASSED MY EXAMS (COMMENCE CARTWHEEL)!!!

All that work. Everything that I have worked for during the past two years. And there it is, sitting in a brown envelope. A rectangular brown envelope. I have realised something: I am happy and proud. Of my grades, and of myself. Because I get the feeling that I have earned this. I got reasonable grades. A colourful cocktail mix of As, Bs and Cs. I got into 6th Form. English, Art and Psychology here I come!


I am still scared. About my future. What can I do? Law has been ruled out. I would love to do something creative, and to travel. I can still make something of myself. But I do not want to disappear. What happens now?

I am scared, terrified, petrified. All because of one day, (morning actually) approaching fast. That day is Thursday 25th August 2011. GCSE Results Day, or G-Day as one of my mates punned. The end of the world (or so it would seem), or the beginning depending on your grades. So what do you do at the appocolypse? What if I don't make the cut? What if I did unutterably crap? I wish I knew the answer to these questions. There is no reassurance, at least until then.

Painting

I've been painting a lot lately, every day when I can get inside the studio, altogether too much. It's so consuming, being there. The scents of oil paint and canvas stretching through. The smallest sounds, of pencil whispering to paper and the voices echoing from the CD player. This is my piece of Heaven, I could spend my whole life here, grow grey in my old shirts and jeans. Barefoot against the stone of the floor, mixing colours. But then, what would I be missing out on?

I would miss my little Brother's laugh. I would miss Summer and Winter. I would miss the dirt. I would miss the river, and chocolate and my family (on an almost equal basis-just kidding...I think). Everything I love. I forget sometimes that Art is just that, an image in flux, dependent upon ideals (or nightmares) rather than real life and the conditions it bares.

I wrote this to persuade myself that it is not good to be so absorbed in any one thing. Everything in moderation, or so they say. So they (my parents) tell me. So I tell myself. But I am almost out of time, this Summer, and am coming to the realisation that things will never otherwise be as they are now. I am sixteen years old, and without care.