Some musings about the various array of, er, "colorful personalities" I
encounter whilst on the job. I fondly dubbed them the "Dear Series":
Dear
''ghetto, badass art kid', please do not assume all models want to
''hang out'' with you at the end of class. Mrs. Robinson advises you to
trade your cheeky behavior and saggy drawers in for some old fashioned
manners and a sturdy belt. Take that kiddo and a ''coo coo ka choo'' to
you!!!!
Dear ''self involved, moronic artist'' - no it is NOT
ok to let your cell phone (w/the obnoxious Justin Bieber holiday ring
tone) go off incessantly in art class, let alone you answering it at
your easel as you noodle away barking orders to your cable guy for 5 min
at the top of your voice (much to the chagrin and annoyance of the rest
of the 10 people trying to create in the zone) only to finish with
''I'm in art class now I have to call you back!''. And no you CANNOT
take my pix w/o asking or paying me!!!
Dear ''crochety, of
mature age hobbyist artist''- I know you are newly retired and can
devote yourself to your art full time, but I must gently remind you
there is no similarity between breakfast sausage and my lower limbs. One
belongs on your plate during your morning repast, and the other is
attached to the torso I plan on voraciously exiting stage left unless
you curb your crabby, frustrated tantrum. Anatomy class is a good
solution, otherwise some prozac with a mineral spirit chaser is what I
recommend.
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