Art is the shortest distance between us
I was a deplorable student. Teachers said I daydreamed. I always stood first in Art, but last in French. The slender marks I did get were probably for attendance; my teacher was beautiful. From her classroom window one bleak autumn day I watched a rabbit eventually outrun a fox. I was memorizing the cold light pulling the colours. I got scolded, in French. Seeing beauty is not a luxury. And lingering is not a waste of time, have you ever made love?
A painting of mine was stolen from a national exhibition when I was in grade eight. What a great encouragement.
My story to date: a sense of wonder.