Though, on the surface, Bobby’s essay explores the contrast between the abstractness of his art and the order of rest of his life, it also mirrors the history of art itself.
Just as Bobby the old artist had “the proportions just right, the contrast perfected” in his sketchbook, so too did the painters of the Renaissance work tirelessly to master perspective—to make art seem as realistic as possible.
It is first utilized to bring the reader into the piece and make the introduction pop, with “Late evening rays [...] casting a gentle glow” and “the soft luminescence of the art studio” becoming “a fluorescent glare.” Immediately, the reader knows what the essay will generally be about: art.
Still, in the beginning of the essay, a lot of information is left out, leaving the reader begging for details to contextualize the mental images Bobby leaves them.
Much like the prematurely grey anti-hero of my favorite book, I sneered at all the “phonies” around me. Defiance for the sake of defiance is unproductive at best, destructive at worst.
I believe in life’s greater Truths, like Love and Justice.
Indeed, it was the realm of disorder and messy studios and true art—a place where I could express the world like I saw it, in colors and strokes unrestrained by expectations or rules; a place where I could find refuge in the contours of my own chaotic lines; a place that was neither beautiful nor ideal, but real.
No, it was not so clean and not so white and not so nice. ___ REVIEW Perhaps the most prominent facet of Bobby’s essay is the use of imagery.
Though I did point out that its origins trace back to jazz musicians of the Harlem Renaissance. I insisted I didn’t care what people thought of me, which was true.
Also that one of the greatest guitarists of all time—dear Mr. My devotion to punk rock began in seventh grade, when Green Day’s “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” came up on my i Tunes shuffle. Yet if I base my actions almost solely on their behavior, how could I deny their influence?