When it happened

chapter 14

“What makes an artist an artist? Is it the way they pick up their utensils? It is the way they use it? Is it the fact that they turn  lines into something beautiful?” Those are some of the words that Ava used to say especially when she was about to have art class  . I had no answer for her. I would always shrug my shoulders but listen as she rambled on.

“Like can't anyone be an artist there is no right or wrong right? Art is art, it's subjective, so why does the school system want to put a percentage on our art?” She would go on further with her rant and I would sit there and listen. “I hate art as a subject so much pressure to get a good grade and then your told that it doesn't have to be perfect. There is no right or wrong. Then why the hell did I get 89% for my last project?”

She went on and on. She complained until the sun had set and the one question that always sat on my mind was. Why did you take the subject if you keep on complaining?
But I kept that question to myself. 

As I walk down the hall to Miss Morgan's class. I mentally try to prepare myself and gather words to say o her.

I know Ava adored Miss Morgan. She praised her like she was the god that created her. At times she would call her mother. They too had a close bond. Which makes me wonder was she at the funeral? I didn't see her bald  head in the saddens of Ava's friends and family.  I would have noticed her especially with that Sak Yant tattoo on her head, but I didn't see her. I'm sure there is a lot of people I missed. Emotions were as high as a tsunami.

I slowly pushed open the door. And as soon as I stepped in my eyes could not help but dart around the room. This was no ordinary classroom. The desks were not in a row they were spread to the side of the class and the corners.

In each group, there were four individual tables set up in a small semi-circle. And in the middle of the class, there was a big space that was filled with brown, orange, and yellow beads. All creating a sunflower. It complemented the dark black wooden floors. On the walls were the different forms of art paintings from oil, acyclic, ink, and watercolor. They were safely placed in frames.

In the whole school, there were only about ten art students and each of them were gifted with the ability to turn simple lines into something meaningful. Something that held the attention of your eyes until they become tired of looking at it.

My eyes set themselves on the painting of a black piano that has sunflowers sprouting out of the cover. My eyes then leap to the painting of an old record player again with sunflowers sprouting  from the horn of the record player.

There's a pattern with these paintings. The next painting also has these bright tall standing sunflowers sprouting out of the guitar. Must have been part of a project they had and the theme must have had something to do with music and flowers.

“There was no theme I forced them to paint that.” I immediately turned around to  the silvery voice of Miss Morgan.

She stood with her arms crossed while the sun rays behind her made her stand out more. Did this woman just read my mind? What sorcery is this? She then cracks a smile showing of the gap that separates her two bunny teeth. “It's a common question I get asked a lot so don't worry I didn't read your mind. ”

“I've been expecting you actually,” she unfolds her arms and walks over to me. I can't help but stare at her russet brown bald head. Even though Miss Morgan toppled over me my eyes always found a way to stare at the Sak Yant tattoo. “You've missed my afternoon classes you no longer want to paint with me?” She walks closer to me like she's preying on me.

“A lot has happened” I sigh “Everything was just too much besides I don't even take the subject. Didn't think you would notice me gone”

“It still is too much isn't it,” she now circles me. I never understood why she did weird things like this but then I remember she acts occasionally. So, whenever she gets the chance to get into character she does exactly that with perfect execution. “You could have spoken to me” She whispers sternly in my ear and her hot breathe passes through it.