About James! ! !

Hi! I am James. I am a 24-year-old male from Southern Illinois. I have short brown hair, and brown eyes, and I am about 6'1" and weigh about 160 lbs. I am really interested in photography, computers, and music, so this site will reflect this. Click here to see pictures of me that I shot myself -- James! ! !

This a picture of a sunset that I painted using a very nice paintbrush type of program.

The following article I wrote for my high school newspaper my senior year. At the suggestion of a friend of mine, I have now added it to this page, as the above picture I created several months after the following article was published not even intending it to be related to the article, adds a perfect finishing touch.

Dusk to Dawn

by James Campanella

Published in 1996 in theMagnavox

Quicker than seems possible I stand looking at a beautiful golden sun setting over a crystal clear pond. As I look closer I begin to see something in the reflection of the sun on the water fuzzy at first, then begins to get clearer. I begin to see myself in that reflection, but it is a much younger self. I rub my eyes in hopes to clear my vision; it doesn't work; I still see my younger self. I have heard of such phenomenon occurring when men have been alone on a journey for an extended period of time, but it happening to me?

Then the water begins to shimmer and the sun or portal of sorts begins to expand. I began to see memories of myself as if a camera had captured all of my actions on tape. Some memories I laugh at, some I weep bitterly at, and some I revere with a fondness mere words cannot describe. Much of my life and many of my fondest memories were spent in school, I seem to notice for the first time. Faces of those whom I went through school with flash upon the water. . . Performing as a Munchkin in 3rd grade. . . Rotary banquets. . . Social Studies Club. . . My first dance. . . Social Studies Club Awards Night. . . 8th grade graduation. . . My Freshman year and the idle fear of initiation. . . The sense of achievement of seeing my articles in the Magnavox. . . SISPA (Southern Illinois Press Association) . . . Getting my drivers license. . . Driving myself to school. . . Being an active member of the Flashlight. . . Christ, my savior. . . The joys and elations of being a Senior. . . Memories of classes that I took shine on the water as clear as the day they happened. Some I cringe at, others I look upon with reverence for I begin to miss them and wish that I could turn back the clock and relive those memories.

My eyes begin to get misty as I realize that all these things are gone, just the mere memories remain. The fact that the many people I see daily I may never see again, takes all the strength I have and then some to suppress my emotion. In fact on May 17, 1996, just a few weeks ago, in walking the halls of DHS I had to fight back tears as I reflected upon the past, present, and future. It had finally hit me. The joys and agonies of this day that I had repressed in the past now surfaced and there was nothing I could do to stop it. The realization of what it really means to be a Senior struck me on that, the last day of school, though I knew all along I was going to feel this and in fact actually had felt a foretaste of that feeling when I began my Senior year.

Then the reflection of the sun fades from the water, as the sun disappears from my eyes over the horizon. Night has fallen. I leave the pond, though I shall frequent it often, and return home to prepare for dawn, when the sun shall rise once again over the horizon, and bring with it another day and many more memories. College. . . My Career. . . My wife. . . My children. . .

For those whom I may have lost with my symbolism, I shall explain. The setting of the sun is my graduation; the rising of the sun is my life after graduation, and the crystal clear pond, of course, is symbolic to my memory.

I have seen many underclassmen who long for the day they graduate and leave DHS themselves. To those people I would like share with them:

Last Modified:  Friday, January 25, 2001