Finally, Painting. I think time legitimately slows down until the little hand of the clock hits two. It's odd, when I paint, it's like I sink into an entirely different world. Everything slows down around me, and all I can see are the canvas and my paints. Every stroke feels planned and I always know exactly when to add a touch of shadow or exactly how the light would strike an apple. Call it genetics, call it talent, call it the result of my father's careful training beginning at the ripe age of when I could actually hold a paintbrush (I was 2), I'm damn good at it.
My problem is the whole, painting what I'm actually supposed to for the assignment. See, I don't have a problem when Dad tells me to work on a copy of a Haustenburg or to practice a certain stroke. There's a purpose in that, it makes me better and exact replications of famous paintings (cough, forgery, cough) could be a (hypothetically) useful skill/money-maker someday (maybe, cough, don't tell Uncle Peter). But I'd rather eat my paintbrush then spend an entire semester painting Bob Ross style landscapes.
The problem is, last year I got used to Mr. Miller's teaching style, which was paint whatever the hell you want, I'm going to read this magazine and occasionally come up behind your easel and say, "hmmm, I like the feel you're developing with your brush strokes" or some other meaningless blabber. It didn't bother me in slightest. I got to experiment with everything. My exact replication of Leslie Knope's Centaur portrait, complete with flying Tom cherubs, is still hanging in my room. Uncle Mozz called it inspired, Mom wanted to burn it.
At any rate, Ms. Niemeyer is not having my shenanigans. Her class is Modern Landscapes, and we are expected to work on the assigned projects. If she says pine trees, we're supposed to ask how many.
I really feel like she and I got off on the wrong foot after she told me I painted my water bodies to choppy for her taste and I told her Bob Ross' perm looked better then hers. Now that I think about, that was my first detention of sophomore year. I do always like to start off with a bang.