A haunting in Saint Louis

No, this is not a cheap imitation of the movie. Instead, it's a memory I'm sharing that recalls a day in college that still affects me to this day, and I'm not sure why I let it influence me so much.

I was in figure drawing class, and we were given a homework assignment to produce a figurative work for next week's class. I drew a nude male posed with a sword. It wasn't the greatest of drawings, but I put time and effort into it, which made it satisfying at the time.

Next class, all the students turned in their drawings. A week later, all pieces were returned to each student. I didn't receive a grade, but I did get a rather loud critiquing by the teacher as he handed my drawing back to me.

"I DO NOT WANT TO SEE WORK LIKE THIS IN MY CLASS EVER AGAIN!"

I was crushed, mortified, and so horribly embarrassed. Everyone was looking at me; the resident freak it seemed.

I understand the whole "my classroom" thing, and how professors get very possessive about their enlightened place and their deserved respect, but it was only an assignment, without any guidelines. I simply drew what I felt, what inspired me.

So why does it haunt me to this day. I can only guess. Maybe, it's because I held a great deal of respect for that teacher, and I actually still do. He's quite skilled, and very knowledgeable in his field. I would exercise more tack than what he did. I wouldn't incinerate a student in the center of a classroom, and more to the point, that's probably what scarred me the most. Recalling it makes me second guess my artistic endeavors, worrying about what the audience will think, and I dwell on that too, too much.

So, today I'm working on a digital piece of a nude male posed with a sword. I really don't give a shit anymore. I should follow Dr. Seuss' advice and words of wisdom:

"Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind."

Thanks, Dr.

p.s. I luv'd Green Eggs and Ham