(September 2001) My Drawing teacher and I don't... really see eye to eye. Usually, Drawing is a whole-day chore with charcoal and putty rubbers and naked models falling asleep on the mattress in the centre of the room. (I did like it in first term, cos I had a fun teacher) Then it happens. Last lesson of the third term. Photos from the show two years previous are strewn across a table, and people are fighting left and right for the choicest morsels. I see a few that attract my eye with their colour - and there they were. Photos of men done up in elaborate dresses and wigs that'd make the sisters from Pirates of Penzance blush. I simply had to draw one! 'Work Loosely,' the teacher says, 'It looks more effective', as I do what I've always done, and work as controlled as I damn well please. Morning break comes, and I take it, but lunch is ignored, as is the afternoon break. It's seven hours from the time we get there, to the time we leave. Almost all of that was devoted to this, my masterpiece, my first good colour pencil piece... my He/She! I shall no longer laugh when told that shadows of green must be red. Nor shall I laugh when people go on about black not really being black. But I WILL laugh when people tell me to work loosely! BWAHAHAHA! I am the evil countess of Control! Or not. :) Well, I'm proud of him... uh... her... uh... It.