A beetle

I painted this when I was still in high school, in Rome, during art class. To be honest, my initial relationship with art was one of constant conflict to say the least: I liked what I drew but my *amazing* (sarcasm alert!) art teacher Francesca did not. She was critical, dispraising and unenthusiastic (to say the least). One of the worst teachers I ever had.

Whereas with some people (see the film Whiplash, for example) this “you’re a bad artist, I hate what you do, you’re a disappointment” may work and make the student excel, with me it most certainly did not. Now I’m over it (or am I? is there any way to know if I actually have overcome this teacher’s horrid attitude?) but whenever I see a piece of art that I did during those years with Francesca I remember her and her awful treatment and well, they’re not good memories.

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