McAuley High School - Gilmarian Yearbook (Toledo, OH)

Page 19 text:

X 55 Facing Page: ttopl Facing the finishing touches on her rag doll, Kathy Parker eyes her creative endeavor, icenterl The Long trek down to the art department keeps the artist in shape. tleftl Wendy Weston cleans up after a messy afternoon of silksc- reening. This Page: The art department whirls in a blend of color. 13

Page 18 text:

The Art Department Colors Our World You can't judge a book by its cover and you certainly can't judge the art department by first impressions. At first glance, The Pit is like any other room, but after further investigations, the dull gray cupboards and the pristine white table tops are only canvasses on which the art students explode their creativity in a collage of color. Quickly advancing from Coloring I, the fresh- men and first-year students learned to stay within the lines by drawing their own lines in original sketches and lettering. Resembling the medicine men in Tarzan movies, their witch-doctor masks were, after first glance, harmless paper sculptures. More advanced students designed their own stationery and surprised friends with Christmas cards that threatened even to put Hallmark out of business. They also put themselves in a bind by creating their own book which blended lettering and color under a theme such as love or friends . And Creative Art students invented a new funeral service for crayons by gleefully heat- ing them to create batiks, proclaiming that old crayons don't die, they just melt away . . . 12 llllllllllll l 'W

Page 20 text:

Business: Out of the Red and into the Black Involvement in the world of business was as varied as the shades in a crayonbox. Early in the morning until 2:35, the rooms clicked in a whirl of color that shouted of red typewriters contrast- ing with black keys. The atmosphere was clearly charged with excitement as girls ripped through copy and learned the puzzles of debits and cre- dits. To an uninformed observer, the would-be secretaries looked like they were making marks that were nothing short of kindergarten scribbles, but in reality were the modern code of shorthand. Equipment such as tape recorders, calculators, and dictaphones sprung to life. Some, like the new word processing unit simulated and even bypassed human ability. This bionic secretary fan- tastically sped out letters at 150 words per min- ute. The room often resembled a Fred Astaire Dance studio as students thrillingly typed to the sound of 1-2-3, a 1-2-3 on recorded waltzes. It is night. Rooms 101, 103, and 105 are silent, tucked away in their black covers in the depths of darkness. A calm has permeated the air, touching each key with a sense of sleep. It is hard to be- lieve that these shadows speak of the same room. X .