Lessons I Teach Myself
Lessons I Teach Myself
J.C entertained the old lady a bit. Took glances at the Picasso, Miro, Rodin all spread open on her lap.
The church bells rang and J.C. broke into a laugh:
'What does your god think of this?'
She pointed at a Picasso painting of a naked woman.
'I suppose... well, I suppose that the lord would... say, what do you think of this?
'Yes, you're the artist.'
'I think it's pretty fucking awesome.'
'What's so "awesome" about it?'
'I said FUCKING awesome.'
J.C was quite confused by Mother Rose's poker face. She was used to nuns being horrified by her foul mouth.
Mother Rose pressed on, and even let a little smile show.
'Well, the colors of the background are the same as the colors of the body. It's like her body is part of everything else. The sky behind, the ground below. They're all the same. She is part of everything. And that's pretty fucking awesome.'
Silence. Mother Rose took the book and looked closely at it: it was indeed fucking awesome. And J.C's perception of it was spot on - almost, she dared think - God like.
'My dear, you may keep these books. Consider it a welcome gift to' our school.'
Mother Rose lead the girl to the door and closed the door behind her with a warm 'You're welcome.'
In the corridor, J.C. couldn't move her feet for a moment.
Not only because the weight of the three books in her hands was taking its toll, but also because what has just happened had genuinely surprised her. J.C was used to being in principal's offices, but she never walked out of them with a gift, but rather with a beating, a suspension, or even an expulsion.
'Holy Shit', she mumbled partly to herself, and partly to the heavens.
'Mother Rose is a rebel.' J.C thought to herself.
The next day in the cafeteria, the girls were hovering near the announcement board. There was an announcement, and a few heads were turning, looking towards J.C. in bewilderment.
J.C rushed to look what the fuss was about. Lo and behold - there was going to be an art exhibit, the first in its kind. And the featured artist was no one else but J.C herself. Or as the announcement named her: 'Lick Me'
Mother Rose was standing by from a distance, giving J.C a nod.
'I think I'm going to like it here after all'
J.C thought to herself, and then she took off her leather jacket, sporting her uniform with pride.
Tamar Pelzig pledged to write something every day, even if it's only a word, so she welcomed to the world a daily blog that may, or may not be, of any significance to anyone other than herself. If you found her lil' life lessons, stories, poems and blurbs meaningful to you, well that's f**ing amazing! Comment and share so she can pat herself in the back - she doesn't do that nearly enough. Cheers.