SOL 8- Rubber Cement and Other Mounting Adventures

          Fumes waft up from my paper, and I think to myself, "Is this what it is like to be a Logan student?" I feel like part of Logan is getting used to extreme levels of exposure to things like rubber cement and sharpie fumes. While it is not inherently bad, I think it is funny that for a school of "gifted" kids we are constantly around things that slaughter mass amounts of brain cells, at least according to science.
          I still remember my first time mounting and using rubber cement. It was approximately five years ago on a sunny October day...

          "Be careful with blades," a teacher tells me.
          "Of course," I replied, while what I wanted to say was finally! I am allowed to freely use the massive slicey-slicey thing!
           She then went on to explain that you spread glue EVERYWHERE on both pieces of paper, wait ten seconds, and then stick them together. Apparently, she said, "this creates a bond stronger than family," or at least I remember her saying that. Looking back, I now realize that that is the most inefficient way to mount, it uses so much glue and creates a mess. Also, I probably added the sassy remark about family when I thought about what happened later, and the comment is now permanently engrained into my memory of the situation. On a side note, if rubber cement is stronger than a family bond, families are incredibly weak and can be peeled apart easily. Now back to this melodramatic flashback:
          "Sounds good!" I say energetically as she finishes the miniature mounting lesson. I begin mounting everything for my project with invigorated energy, thinking to myself how great everything looks, all framed in colors. Yet again, looking back, I realize now how horrendously abysmal my mounting was.

          Moving forward two years, I discovered "modern artistic mounting."
          "OK," I replied to the teacher telling me to do something creative with my mounting. I then went on to create a poorly designed collage of neon colors on a green piece of cardstock paper. Once my horrendous collage was done, I cut it into a rectangle and mounted a poem on it. I walk over to the turn in box, and give it to the teacher, satisfied with my work.
          "Thanks for doing your own, I did everyone else's," the teacher tells me after I turn it in, feeling proud of myself. My jaw has to be picked up off the floor as I quickly realize that everyone else has a perfectly mounted, color themed poem on the board, and I will have a poorly collaged crappy looking poem in the corner.
          The poem stayed up in the hallway for approximately three months, and every time I walked past the bulletin board I was reminded to never volunteer to do something like that again.

          My mounting has changed drastically now, three years after the incident of "modern art mounting." Don't worry, I have not done any form of "modern art mounting" since that poem, and I will never even think about doing it again.
          First off, I never use those massive inefficient paper cutters, I swear by slide cutters. I would rather not trade in accuracy and straight edges for playing with massive blades.
          Second off, my mounting width has reduced by approximately 70%, and my accuracy has improved by a solid 87%. My projects, in my opinion, look much better now then they did back then.

          Maybe it was the rubber cement fumes that finally made me good at mounting, maybe not. I have certainly evolved a lot, and I would like to think that my mounting no longer looks like it was done by an infant.