LunAurea

Don’t they know that murder is illegal? You just know there are a bunch of homicidal maniacs out there who love to read those stories. They write them, too, in between killing people. 

In my AP Art class, there was a girl who was just starting to experiment with mixed media. At this point she was still playing around, trying to decide what direction she wanted to go with her portfolio. So one critique day, she brought in an abstract canvas with some rhinestone highlights and painted and real peacock feathers. She loved sparkles and peacock feathers so she thought she’d try introducing them a *little*. And after everyone had given some input, the teacher gave her his advice, VERY roughly paraphrased here:

“So here’s the thing… I do not like this style. These are just elements that do not speak to me personally, but I see that you like them, and you’re doing interesting things with them.

“My biggest critique is, I only merely *dislike* this piece. I want you to make me HATE it. Go crazy with the things that you like. Don’t hold back trying to make it palatable to people like me. Because I am NEVER going to like it. And if the audience does not like it, it should drive them crazy seeing how much YOU love it.”

Her portfolio was chock full of neon colors and glitter and rhinestones and splashes of peacock feathers and it was a delight. Our teacher despised every piece lol, but she got great marks and I think even won some awards. And more importantly, she was happy and proud of the results. Because she didn’t limit herself by trying to appeal to people who were never going to enjoy what she enjoyed.

What if they left you behind. They could make more of you at their destination, after all. What if you had to figure out how keep your people alive without them. What if you had children in a godless world and taught them who they were and what their history was. What if the Gods were gone for generations, and you all held on, doing your best to serve absent masters at the last purpose left for you, waiting for the day when they would return and bring your true purpose back again.

What if they left you a ruined land, and no instructions, and many of you starved to death. What if you realised how much pain and suffering and danger your people had gone through, were going through, for indifferent creators who thought that you owed them everything and had the right to nothing, not even yourselves. What if you banded together with others in your righteous anger and declared that your Gods would never set foot in your land and drag you or your descendants into slavery again.

What if they left, and you had to figure yourselves out, build a society without them. What if you found that you could, and that you and your people were capable of sense and reason and dealing fairly with each other, and that likely your Gods were too. What if you decided that any who would treat you fairly and equally was welcome, and that lifelong master or lifelong enemy would be determined by the actions of any you met, your kind or theirs.

What if you were in one of three factions that shared an island for generations, with constant friction and occasional war at your borders over a singular issue related to a people long gone and irrelevant to the future. What if this opinion as ingrained so deeply into all three of your cultures that permanent peace and reintegration seemed impossible. What if this was your future, all for a race of Gods who would never come back.

What if one of them came back.

What if a young God stepped onto your lands, a trainee, the power of creation new and raw in their hands, and were surprised to find you kind there. What if they were surprised to find that your island even existed. What if they told you that your island wasn't in their records, that their arrival, a possibility that you had fought wars over for generations, had been accidental. That the people that you had fought and died and built your philosophies over did not know who you were.

A couple I was helping earlier had two little ones, three and six, who were behaving in a rather saintly fashion for the average bored kid I see. I tried to engage them with remotes and things while their parents talked.

Eventually they were restless enough that I pulled out notepads and asked if they wanted to draw. The three year old quickly lost interest and I went over to ask her favorite animal. She told me “elephant” so to delight and amaze her I started drawing an elephant. Usually kids are into it.

When I was done she pronounced, “It looks like a giraffe.”

I staggered back melodramatically but actually laughing hysterically and said, “There goes my art degree!”

The parents laughed and said kids were harsh critics. When they checked out they saw my elephant doodle on the desk and both did a double take like, “Woah, that’s a really good elephant!”

10,000 notes - well executed crowd pleaser

1,000 notes - cult classic

100 notes - uncompromising avant-garde art for those of discerning taste

10 notes - misunderstood genius that the culture is not yet ready for