Ah memories

Never thought I'd say this.

You know what I miss about the lessons back in school? Two things writting stories in english and drawing stuff in art.

Most of the through school we'd get something like a picture and told to write a story inspired on it. I love doing that. There's an endless supply of plots that can be created from the simplest of pictures. I remember always creating stories that were just too much for about two sides of A4 (which is how much I would be able to write in the time given). I remember in first year I created a storie of two sort of tomboys who found a rather bloody murder and chased the murderer but lost him. The idea came from a picture of two youngish figures in darkness peering out of the bushes of some mansion. I liked the characters but the story failed esspecialy in the re-draft where I ran out of time since I forgot to write it up at home and had to do it quickly at brake. I ressurected the characters for the end of year test thing. I got a picture of some kind of box on the beach. I created an older brother brother for one of the girls who was quite a good character himself and wrote some mystery that you never found out in the story. I havn't seen that story since I handed it in but from what I remember it was really quite good for a 12 year old boy to write. I even got praise infront of the class for it. I ressurected one of the girls for another story in the next year but the story failed because it was really terrible.
Trouble is that in the last two years of school we were only one chance alone to write a stroy each year (I took the course twice and failed it each time... well it was evil). The first time I we were to write a monologue about some person in some kind of problem. I wrote about someone who stayed at home doing nothing when he left school while his friends moved on and left him alone. The story was him wandering the empty streets remembering his past and thinking how lonely he was but the teacher critised it because she didn't see what the problem was. Idiot.
The second was about a security guard watching offices on chirstmas and descovering something. It was only supposed to be a sort of first chapter in a novel of something. I think it would have gone down well if I had handed it in instead of just not being bothered.
I miss writing like that.

I also miss drawing in art. Shcoking the art teachers by doing a rather good drawing for the final exam and getting a great grade for it. Saddly the grade was dragged down because of my written work which I still don't understand what I was supposed to be writting about. Was it about the artist of the pictures? What was it?!?!?!?!
The exam was great. Hours and hours and hours just sitting drawing a still life. You see just how odd I am. I'm not artistic in any way infact I'm not even slightly interested in art because to be honest it doesn't exaclty mean anything. Smears on a canvas... real elephant s*** on a canvas what the hell? A pile of plates. What does it mean?
It's more insane than I am.