I roll over onto my side, still laughing. the kind of wheezing laugh that happens very rarely for me. Jasiah had used his paintbrush and splattered paint all over his friend. Although this is an art class and we should be listening, today's session consisted of takes about a passive art historian.
"Dang man, this is so boring."
"I know right dude?"
Those were the kinds of conversations that went on in the classroom today. Anyway, for being such a passive guy, this art historian ended up going to prison. For selling rip-off paintings that is. Meanwhile to my left Lue was fighting with her shirt button that was falling off while listening to Ethan talk about a reluctant cleric he met at the doctor's office. He was apparently quite worried to tell Ethan the news about his mother, who had just recently passed away. Maybe not the best conversation to be having in an art class, I thought to myself.
Art class was always hectic, it was right after lunch, and everyone still had the energy to spare. The only quiet days were when we would make statuettes pose so we could draw them. The class was almost over, and I couldn't wait to leave I was just waiting for our teacher Mr. Williams to tell us we could pack up our things. Not that I would be able to escape the topic of art, as in history we'd be talking about an Artics Aromatherapist. I know right? I fidgeted with my key chain while I recalled telling my dad about today's history lesson. he just sad and cried. I assume because the history lesson was sad? or maybe he just had a bad run-in with an aromatherapist. Anyway, the bell finally rang. time to leave.