Dear Dex,
After you left Copper Kitchen this morning, one of your former students (Bill) told me his story. He remembered you drawing flowers on a chalkboard with colored chalks. He said you drew those flowers with such beautiful detail that he remembers -- every time he sees you. He told me he was seventeen at the time. It was the Fall of 1964, and your classroom was in an old barracks building left over from military housing.
"One of my regrets in life," he said, "is not being a more serious student and taking advantage of his knowledge. I can remember sitting in awe .... He drew from memory."
No comments:
Post a Comment