I started with 12. One woman never showed up even for the introductory class. Then, her name mysteriously vanished from the roster. So, I’m down to 11, but only 9 show up regularly. One guy attends, draws, and produces work but never turns in an assignment. His grade is 0%. He’s there but then again isn’t.
Last night, twenty minutes before the end of class, I advised students to go outside to spray their charcoal drawings. I told them to come back so that they could add another layer of soft vine charcoal. Perhaps they could even venture into using…charcoal pencil…
Five out of nine didn’t come back in time to finish their drawings. When the clock hit 9:30, I crept to the back door to see where they had gone. I saw two huddled in a dark shadow. An eerie glow lit one woman’s face a phosphorescent blue. Her thumbs twiddled at something she held in her hand…One stood apart and stared at the black silhouettes of a stand of trees. Only one sprayed.
I opened the door. A chemical fixative fog struck my nostrils. I gasped and said, “It’s time for you to come in and add the second layer. There’s only five minutes left.” Like ghosts staring at a mortal who interrupts a solemn graveyard ritual, they met my speech with mute indignation.
Four of the nine did not linger outside. They managed to spray their drawings in the customary five minutes required for the task. But the dallying five sauntered into the room right at the quitting mark. The late returners stone-faced me when I reminded them that they had also failed to come back punctually on Monday. A bemused look crossed one guy’s face when I said that their drawings were incomplete without a second layer. Communication with him felt like shouting across a gray void. Only my voice’s tinny echo came back. I began to wonder if I was the one who had begun to fade.
I plan to have them draw a four-object still life next week. They’ll have to spend two classes working on it. 11 have already dwindled to nine. Five out of nine have become semi-transparent. Will only four escape the clutches of a dark ennui that drains willpower and drive? Who will be left by next Wednesday?
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