Art Majors

Epilogue

I tapped my charcoal drawing pencil against the edge of the drawing board, being very unhappy with the perspective sketch of the cardboard boxes I had produced. The angles were correct, it was to scale, I was simply unhappy with it. There was no depth to it and absolutely no feeling, which was what matters the most to me.

I turned to admire the drawing next to me, being worked on by a female student, a persistent one at that. She seemed to be as much of a perfectionist as I am. Every line was checked with parallel lines and negative space before she would put a final mark down.

When she turned to me she said the last thing I expected:

“Wow, yours looks so much better than mine, I hate mine.”

I just rolled my eyes and answered her with the first thing that came to mind,

“Let me guess, you’re an art major?”

She laughed and nodded her head; she knew how we art majors were when it came to critiquing our own work: it’s never good enough.

From that simple conversation, a wonderful relationship began.