The Art Site

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Part 7

And now... Ava wanted to play the piano for a career. Kathy leaned back into the car seat and closed her eyes.
She couldn't let her do that. It wouldn't work, she was too much like her father to stick to anything and make a career in it. If she studied law, and got a good job, even though she might lose interest in it she would still be getting paid well. But if she got this career in music and lost interest in it, it would be fatal. She would be useless all the rest of her life, not good at anything, a drudge, just like her mother and father. But why was she so persistent? Stubborn, like Paul had been. She wouldn't give it up.
Kathy tried to look at it through Ava's eyes. She didn't know about her father, what he was like. To her it would probably seem as though her mum was telling her not to do something she really wanted to do, for no reason. Because she hadn't given a reason. Well, if Ava was going to be so stubborn about this, she'd have to give one. Tell her about her dad. She didn't want to do that, unlock all those memories she'd kept a secret for years. Kathy sighed. She'd just have to. She opened the door, got out and locked up the car.

As she walked around the corner of the house, she could hear music being played. She didn't know what it was, but it sounded gentle and refreshing, like a warm Spring day. Then the music changed. It slowly became agressive, the gentleness was gone and all that was left was a torrent of angry notes, cascading down like an angry voice. Kathy felt her heart beat faster. Then, as she opened the back door and walked into the corridor, the music had changed again. A note of hope had crept in, and the music became gentle again.

Kathy leaned on the door post of the living room, watching her daughter play. The slim fingers danced over the white keys in perfect time, and her face mirrored what the piece was saying. Suddenly Kathy wondered if playing the piano meant more to Ava than she had thought.
The music had stopped. Ava was aware of someone else's presence and looked up. As she saw her mother standing there a bitter look came into her face. She stood up, put the music book on the rack and closed the lid of the piano. She walked past Kathy, but her mum laid a hand on her arm.
She looked like she wanted to say something, but was embarassed to say it.
'Ava, you play so well... I'm really sorry about the concert... and – I'm sorry I was angry about it.'
Ava glanced up at her mum. Did she really mean it? Her mum's expression told her she did.
So she was expected to just forget how mean her mum was? Act like everything was okay suddenly, just because her mum was having a few pangs of consience? Ava held onto the grudge.
'You're sorry, but you won't let me play at the competition, will you?' Her voice was hard.
For once Kathy didn't have a sharp reply ready.
'Ava, I think we need to talk about the piano playing... and your dad.'
'We never talk about my dad.' Said Ava rebelliously.
'Well we need to talk about him now.' She sighed, and sat down on the sofa. 'Come on, sit down.'
Ava didn't want to, and she didn't like being told to, but she sat down anyway.
Kathy began. 'You don't know this, but your dad used to play the piano.'
Ava interrupted. 'I know that, Granma told me.'

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Learning Poetry

Another poem I did for our poetry lesson...

Learning poetry grinds me down,
It pulls my face into a frown,
'Part of an object that stands for a whole,' -
I'm clinging to my self-control.

'All hands on deck,' the captain cries,
But with the test my memory dies,
The answer is out of my mental grasp,
It flops like a fish and breathes it's last.

'Three out of ten,' the words ring cold,
And like a vice on me take hold,
But I scrunch up the score with great disdain,
And pick up my pencil to try again.

Friday, October 12, 2007

Green Tea Sea

We've been studying poetry and today was assonance, so here's what I came up with:

If all the green tea was thrown into
The blue sea, how much green tea
Would make the blue sea green?
But if all the blue sea was thrown into
The green tea, we would be knee-deep
In green tea sea.


This story is based on an encounter I had on a bus in Greece.

Ahem.” The weedy looking young man tried to attract the girl’s attention. She was standing leaning on the pole that stood upright in the bus, looking out the window, oblivious to him and his efforts. The bus was so closely packed that standing was necessary, and the young man was also on his feet. On the ground by her stood an upright suitcase, the cheap kind that falls apart soon after you buy it. This one was still holding together, so the young man guessed it had only recently been bought. This could mean one of two things: 1.She was a tourist, her bag had broken and she’d had to buy one in the Athenian market, 2.She lived here and was going on an overseas trip.

This girl had long red hair, loosely tied up in a bun, sharp black eyebrows that were curved so that they looked like they were asking a question, and green eyes. She was looking out onto the Greek landscape, and she seemed to like what she saw.

Miss?” The man leaned towards her. It was amazing that she hadn’t heard him yet.

The girl turned her head slightly. There was a faint noise, but it was probably directed to someone else. Nobody but her family knew her here in Greece, and they were seated on chairs further back in the bus.

The man pushed his whiskered face slightly closer to the girl. “Miss?” He asked patiently. This time the girl heard him and turned a startled face to him. She had particularly wide green eyes and they looked surprised.

He waved his hand in the general direction of the window.

Do you like Greece?”

He spoke in stilted English, his voice was husky and he had a heavy Greek accent.

The girl took a step back from him. She was slightly taller than him, but she looked up at him, because he was standing on the platform.

Yes, I like it, it's beautiful.”

The man stared at her. He couldn't make out her accent, but it wasn't from any part of Greece. Maybe America?

And you are from Greece?”

No, I'm not, I'm...” she was interrupted by the man.

You must be from Greece!” He declared.

Again, she attempted to explain.

No I'm not, I...”

Then you are French?”

The girl smiled. It was a slow smile, but it stayed in her eyes for a while afterwards. She seemed amused by the conversation.

No, I come from New Zealand.”

The young man's face remained blank. He was right then, he thought, New Zealand was probably a state in America. Or some town in Australia.

New Zealand! Ahhh."

To be continued....

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