Taking an Art Class

By Kelley Rossier

May 18, 2015

Taking an Art Class

We are given a project to do. Here are the parameters. Lines parallel. Lines perpendicular. Clear relationships. Mass, plane, line. No diagonals. I put the safety glasses on. I cut the wood. I use the joiner. I plane the wood. I glue the pieces together. I use clamps on every side. Make sure there is no give.

I drive home. I say his name out loud in the car like I always do. “Jay.” I just say it. This was his car. I put my distance glasses on. They make me feel that something has changed. That I am different than I was a year ago. Two years ago. Twenty-nine months ago. I am a person who wears glasses now. I am altered. He never saw the me who wears glasses. The me who takes an art class.

I bring my clamped box into our small farmhouse, put it on the kitchen table. Make dinner. We are girls together sometimes. We all have long hair: yellow, red, brown. We record our voices and try to tell who is who. We laugh so hard, we fall over in our chairs.

I have formed a new life for us. I have measured every moment to lead us to now. I have taken what I needed for me. I have given what they needed for them. I have sketched out each piece of newness, created a diagram for us to follow. Relationships clear: Mom, Lily, Claire. Diagonals.


Photo "Zig-zag cutting board" provided by Carl Joseph, via Flickr.com creative commons license.

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