Today I started on my first oil painting in my Painting I class. Our painting professor is a massive ginger kid who probably could have been a successful ram-buster (Irish version of bronco-busting cowboy), but instead chose to become a soft-mannered art teacher. This afternoon in class I glimpsed his repressed Braveheart fury when I kept trying to make my painting 'good' instead of 'practicing basic paint application and removal techniques'. I wanted to explain to him that I needed to sell my painting to recoup some of the money I spent on the painting supplies, but I just decided it was safer to shut up and color.

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