A Work of Art

April 21, 2009
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Great. I had two days to create a work of art. I can’t draw. I can’t paint, sketch, or even trace. What am I supposed to do? Sigh. Ms. Janka said that it has to be about something I like, but I like things that can’t be put down on a piece of paper. I like nature; I like the feeling of being free. How am I supposed to put that stuff on paper? It’s impossible. Maybe Mom or Sasha (my goody-two-shoes, Barbie doll like older sister) will know something that I can do.
“Baby, a work of art doesn’t have to be a painting or drawing! It can be a book, or even a leaf. In a way, everything is a piece of art. Make something that represents something you like to do, or something you love. It’s fairly simple.” Wow. What mom said kinda goes against what I learned and believed my whole life.
“Wow. You have to do that? I failed that assignment when I was assigned it. I painted a picture of a redbird flying over a creek. I’ll show you if you want.” She got up and went over to her closet. She pulled out a small, wooden board that was covered in a smooth cloth. She uncovered it, and I saw a beautiful painting.
The redbird was very nearly life-like and looked as if it would fly right out of its frame. The creek had clear blue water and brown and green stones on the bottom and both sides. Trees with small white blossoms and nearly grown leaves surrounded the bubbling creek, and the entire painting had a sense of mystery and allusiveness. “I worked on it for weeks, and still I got a bad grade. It was a 47 F!!! Good luck passing, weirdo.” She always called me that. I really, really hate it when she does that. Oh well. What was I supposed to do? I went to bed that night thinking of that, then fell into a restless sleep.
I woke up to the calm colored dawn and cheerful song of the birds outside my window. I got dressed, ate a quick breakfast, and ran out the door to school. As I drew near my bus stop, I heard Kaili, my BFF, talking to Sayra, my other BFF. They were talking about their ‘work of art.’ Great.
“Lyrah (Yes, that’s my name. I know my circle of friends have weird way of spelling names.)! What are you going to do about the assignment? We already started with ours. I’m doing a drawing of a city. Wanna see how it is so far?” With out waiting for me to answer, Kaili opened her backpack and took out a piece of paper. I looked and saw a pic of a city that suspiciously looked like San Francisco. Wow. Great. Awesome. Not.
“Mine is going to be a painting of the park. I haven’t got mine here. I left it at home.” Sayra said. I didn’t really need to see it with my eyes to know it was perfect. Sayra is the best drawer in the school. The stupid, horrid school that doesn’t care that I can’t do my assignment.
“I don’t know what mine will be. I haven’t decided yet.” With that I turned and walked away.
That day in school, I couldn’t keep my mind off it. I had to think of a mind blowing-something-to have. Help. It went on all day. After dinner (My sis was sneering at me the entire time) I decided I’d follow Mom’s advice. I decided what I would bring.
The next day passed quickly. I got every thing ready.
Finally, the day came when our ‘work off art’ was due. I walked to the front of the class and said, “This is MY Work of Art.” Everyone stared at me when I didn’t take anything out and show the. “You don’t get it.” Everyone kept staring. Sigh. “My work of art is me.” They still looked at me blankly. Sigh. “There is nothing like it, so it can’t be copied. It’s one of a kind. It’s a Work of Art.” Yay! Someone got it. Funny thing was that is was Ms. Janka. She started smiling all of a sudden. ‘Bout time understood what I was doing, and, uh, showing.
“Class. It looks like Lyrah has brought us art that is a true piece of art. She is the only person in class today that has received a perfect score of 100. Art is not just a painting, but anything that can never be made again, by someone else. She has taught us a lesson that that I hope none us will ever forget.”
Double WOW!

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This article has 7 comments. Post your own now!

Wolfayne said...
Aug. 27, 2009 at 3:41 pm
Thank you! I'm glad you like this. This is my first and only short story
Wolfayne said...
Aug. 26, 2009 at 3:28 pm
Thank you! I'm glad you liked it! ;D
~*The-Broken-Hearted-Girl*~ said...
Aug. 26, 2009 at 2:46 am
this is good! :)
Wolfayne said...
Aug. 24, 2009 at 3:40 pm
I'm glad someone finally read this! I put this on here months ago, and no one said anything or rated it. As for the moral, I based it on something I noticed years ago. No one can make 2-or more- things exactly the same when you do it by hand. Something is always different, from how hard you press on it, the exact colors you used, or even the dimenions of a line. Something is always different. Even photographs. The colors, the times, the exact places, the dates, ect. A good thing to say is, ... (more »)
Wolfayne said...
May 4, 2009 at 4:41 pm
I hope everyone likes it! I mostly do poetry, and this is my 1st short story.
Joanna said...
Aug. 21, 2009 at 4:46 pm
I know you mostly do poetry -- and you are wonderful at it. I really like this short story too.
I just don't quite agree with the "moral". I have a very liberal sense of what art or poetry or writing could be. I like what the mother said, that "everything is a piece of art." I agree with that. But is art something no other person should be able to produce or copy? I don't think so. I can draw and paint realisticlly, emotionally and abstractly, but one thing that I love to do is draw ... (more »)
Wolfayne replied...
Sept. 30, 2010 at 4:32 pm

I was reading your comment again, and in contrast to what you think about your lines....no one else can do it exactly the way you did it.  Because you pressed down a certain amount, you wavered from the lines at certain areas.

As with borrowing photography, I agree.  But still, you can never get it exactly the same as one person got it, now can you?  I remember a tale of a certain photographer - I forget his name - that somehow photographed a glowing cross in a cemetary ... (more »)

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