Let me just state this for the record: practically all art teachers are very perverse, bizarre, or both. Today I stayed after so I could get info about the upcoming fashion show (I hate trashbags, by the way) and in the middle of the meeting I was working on a portrait of Bacchus for this thursday's assignment.
Well... Cookie's normal enough (she's just older so she doesn't feel like being too eccentric), but Michaels and Anderson are something else. Post fashion-show meeting, art club was trying to write the story for the benefit coloring book we drew to give to the familys over at Shade Tree. One topic led to another... and eventually we had Mary Sue going to the circus and witnessing dog-on-dog action, magical paper you put on your tongue, a bear on a unicycle whose legs don't reach the pedals, and sperm-like balloons. Keep in mind, all these images had already been drawn. We just needed to write the lil story.
Halfway through that meeting, I decided that I hated my portrait (go chunky acrylic paint) so I took a knife to it and started scraping off layers. It ended up looking like a Francis Bacon painting. Yip.
Still need to finish gridding my oil pastel onto my matte board. And I have to finish my social movement project for Sociology. Blech.
All is rot. Pip pip cheerio.
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