Psychology 101

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Two Rivers

Chapter 14 (v.1) - God-Given Talent

Submitted: January 25, 2018

Reads: 133

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Submitted: January 25, 2018

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The next up was the artist.  She set up her easel and sketch pad.  “Hello, my name is Anastasia Jefferson,” she said and scribbling something on the sketch pad.  It was her name stylish script covering the whole page.  She ripped it off and held it up before depositing it on the lab table behind her. 

She began sketching as fast as she could and talking at the same time.  “I set up in Central Park and put my sign out: Will Paint for Food.  Then I proceeded to sketch some birds.  I like to sketch birds because they are always moving, and I have to hold their image in my mind in order to finish it.  It’s a discipline thing.

“Anyway, after about an hour in, this lady comes around my easel to see what I’m sketching.  She wants me to paint her portrait.  I begin sketching two or three sketches of her face to capture her essence.  And, she leaves and says, “I’ll see you in an hour.”

Anastasia continued sketching and ripping off the 18 inch by 24-inch piece of paper off her pad and leaning them up against the lab bench for all to see the sketches.  It was a perfect rendition of Professor Ryan. “So, continuing with my story,” Anastasia says.  “This woman returns in an hour.  I was running out of time, so I put her face peeping around a dark, maroon curtain, covering half of her face.  She loved it and held it up, admiring it, praising me to high heaven.  ‘How much?’ she asked.  I told her I couldn’t sell it because we were doing this project for our psychology class.  She seemed so heartbroken; that I told her she could have it for a cup of coffee and a doughnut.

“‘I’ll do you better than that!’ she said.  ‘Come with me!’ I gathered up my art supplies and followed her.  She was on her cell phone and pretty a soon a limo came and she helped me put my stuff the trunk.  In the vehicle, the driver was waiting for me with my coffee and doughnut.  The woman directed the chauffeur to stop in front of an exhibit building.  All the time we were in the car she was on the phone, directing people to her place of business.”

Anastasia continued sketching as she talked.  The pictures were cumulating in front of the lab bench.  It was apparent she was sketching each one in the class one at a time.  As the charcoal prints appeared the class oohed and aahed with delight.

“The lady, I found out, was an art dealer and was setting up a private showing for her favorite customers.”  She asked me if I had more things to exhibit.  After giving her my address, she directed her drive on to my mom’s house and a box truck fell in behind us. 

We loaded up everything I had and went to her studio.  Twenty people were milling around the place as we came in.  We could hardly unload the truck for people picking things to look at offering unbelievable prices that my head began to swim.  My benefactor put her painted portrait on the far wall so that everyone coming in would see it first thing. 

Finishing up, she said, “Everything I had sold that day with promises to do individual portraits.”  She continued, “I walked out of that with thousands and thousands of dollars.”

As she put the last sketch up, she continued to draw.  Everyone sat wondering what this one would be about.  Finally, she turned her easel back around to the class to show a caricature of herself with the words at the bottom.  “Thank you, Professor Ryan.”

The whole class stood to give Professor Ryan a standing ovation.  He came forward wiping the tears from his eyes to shake Anastasia’s hand.  “Thank you,” he said. 

“Oh, each one can have the sketch of themselves,” she yelled out over hooping and hollering coming from the students.  When everyone settled down she said, “The word LOCK is knowing we are all in this together.  We are all locked in love whether we like it or not,” which resulted in another uproar of shouts of approval.  “Thank you,” she finally said and sat down.

 


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