rethinking art school

they want the best for us
don’t they?
the teacher
who told you
that your work
reminded her
of Paul Cezanne
and you thought of
that lady
in her
green hat
and you think that you
would have painted her

…you would have
softened the tones
drawn her out
…pulled that amused
into a bemused smile…

…but you
knew in a flash
(13 years later)
that you didn’t paint
like anyone in
you knew it then
didn’t you…

that you
couldn’t paint anything
wouldn’t paint anything
refused to paint anything
of great worth
you’d fail at art
and data entry
lock smithing
and telemarketing
and finally
computer programming
and you’d come to deal
with all of that
in good time
and you’d find yourself
the misplaced
driver of the year
for the most prestigious
trucking company in

9 thoughts on “rethinking art school

  1. Ah but artists are miserable, aren’t they? My brother was an artist and an art professor. He got tired of starving. Now he works as a computer programmer and paints when he can. Living the dream ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.

    • Thank you so much Ellen. I appreciate that you stop here regularly to read my work. I wish you happy holidays as well, and I look forward to reading more of your work in the coming year.

  2. I’m sorry, but I just burst out laughing at this. I suppose it is your story, but it reminded me of my husband and I. We (he mostly) goes over all that he ‘could have done’ with his talents (and he is correct), but through a lack of direction and purpose, he has spent a lot of his working years being a carpenter/construction worker/truck driver. And I talk about how I should have gone to art/design school and then I could have made an income (perhaps small, but I don’t care because I would have been doing what I liked and was good at) at window display, graphic art, interior decorating, etc. You get the drift. 😉 Great poem.

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