Wednesday June 18th, 2014

The exercise:

Write about: the art class.

Spent my time in the garden today weeding around our cabbage and broccoli plants. I'm pleased to say I managed to finish that section after dinner, which then allowed me to get an organic spray on them to deal with the cabbage worms that have been chewing on the leaves.

Just in time, too, as there are heads of cabbage forming out there. Might even be a few smaller ones ready for next week's boxes.

Genevieve is scheduled to return to us tomorrow (though I haven't heard from her yet to confirm that) and I'm looking forward to having the extra help once again.

Mine:

Little Joey Stevens always submitted the same thing, no matter what I assigned to the class. Though it's been nearly thirty years, I have absolutely no trouble recalling each of his pieces.

Sometimes he used construction paper, in colours ranging from white to yellow to black, other times he made use of wood or felt or velvet. There was even that one time he brought in a chunk of aluminum siding.

And while his materials differed, the content never did. No pen or paintbrush or pencil ever touched those surfaces. And when I turned it over, without fail, I would find a plain white flash card glued to the back with the title of his piece printed in careful capital letters.

DRAWING A BLANK, BY JOEY STEVENS

The first time he pulled that trick I kindly informed him that, while it was somewhat amusing, he'd need to hand in a proper piece of art. He gave me a confused look and resubmitted the exact same thing the following day.

Time after time this happened. I will admit to losing my temper at the end. Normally I adhere to my policy of never writing on or making any sort of mark on a student's artwork. I broke that with Joey when he handed in a black piece of construction paper with that same title on the back.

I dipped a fine brush into red paint and added a simple F in the top right hand corner.

He was some kind of upset. Threw a hissy fit like you wouldn't believe. When he wouldn't quit I threatened to send him to the principal's office.

He countered that I was the one who should go see Mr. Brown for punishment, since I had ruined his artwork.

Just goes to show how little he knew. I heard the other day that piece was sold at a fancy New York gallery for twice the usual price of other pieces in his collection...