Monday, July 23, 2007


Somehow I got on a memory trip today in Greek. We were (re)learning the Greek word for blood and talking about Passover, in Greek. Yes, I realize that blood is not a good avenue for a memory trip, but bear with this.

In third grade, I was in the top math class which was taught by the art teacher. We took a math test of some sort and were instructed to not write or draw on the back. Of course, I thought that was silly, because who would write or draw on the back. (On a side note, I've never had the urge to press the red button, either, until told to not press it).

So, of course, I drew on the back. And showed it to the nerdiest kid. He was unimpressed. So I drew more. Still unimpressed. Then I finished my masterpiece. Almost all of the back had pencil marks on it and, for a third grader, it was a work of art.

"What was this masterpiece?" one might ask. Well, it was Jesus on the cross, with Mary, Mary Magdalene, Peter (turning away) and Jesus' brother. The sky was dark and there was a trail of blood dripping from the cross and into pools at the foot of the ancient Weapon of Singular Destruction. Pretty gruesome, eh?

Well, the teacher was not impressed. She pulled me out of Science class and the Science and Art/Math teachers talked to me in the hallway about the piece of "art." When they asked about blood, I lied and said that the pools were tears. When they made me erase the whole thing, I produced my own tears.

I hate art class.

This is similar in thought, but that's where the similarities end. Mine was a front shot like Raffaello's, no angels (I think) and only 1 person on the left, 2 on the right of the cross. Mine was a lot more morbid too.
Oh, and crappier, I might add.

P.S. When I was still working at the credit union, I would see each of these teachers periodically. After seeing my name, they "remembered" me. Maybe most 9 year olds don't draw psychotic religious art.

No comments: