"We gift you this easel!" said Anne and I think I might have blushed. The thing looked huge. "But it's your job to get it out of here."
"Thank you, thank you! This is amazing. Do I need to get it out by a certain time?" I said.
"You have a week." And the thing began to look even huger.
So, I drive a mazda miata and have no friends with big cars or trucks. This afternoon I rolled it out of the art building and looked up at the sky. It was dark and menacing. The wheels were rickety and I realized I wouldn't be able to roll it the entire way back to the apartment. I folded it up and, flattened, it was about the length of a sudan but not the weight of one, luckily. On the walk home, I swear I could feel my gymnastic calluses growing back in. And then it began to rain.
Thankfully, I wasn't far away from the building. I got in somehow and, too large to fit in the elevator, I had to carry it up three flights of stairs. The stairs were the easy part. The doors were the things giving me trouble. I couldn't actually hold any door open for myself because the easel was too far in front of me. Needless to say, friendly neighbors assisted me when they saw how I was struggling. It was an embarrassing sight.
Now it's sitting in the living room and hopefully not to the great dislike of my roommates. I'd like to keep it here, but if there isn't a good place, I don't know what I'll do. In the meantime, I have a place to rest my art:
Close up of the art using the easel:
The exercise was to use warm and cool colors to bring forward and push backward forms.
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