Well, but now Art looks at this huge master piece fully enjoying the way in which he has been able to capture his grand movements an subtle work style... He can actually say that he has overcome all issues and practical hurdles of making this artistic climax.
Then his son comes in, and Art looks with excitement at the face of the boy...he must be impressed by this monumental work, this is even aesthetically nice for a young soul....
Then his son speaks..."sure dad, it's nice, but how to get it out of the door?"...
Art is silent, his eyes open wide and it takes some time for this sentence and its consequences to penetrate his brain...does he feel disappointment, or sadness or even anger...
It is the fury in him that wins...
- always the same practical sh*t that is killing him
- why cant his son just first look at the beauty and give him 5 minutes of joy before crushing his dream
- why the #%^* did he ask his son for his opinion
- why does art each time feels so good, just before awaking into terribly honest reality
- why does he keep starting new art experiments when they so often fail in the end
While Art is raging his son sneaks out and goes back to play on his computer, connected with his friends. He is again amazed at how his father could have overlooked the issue of the size of the art work... and probably there is still a way to solve the issue but his father is too busy cursing and yelling. Of course he does not share this with his friends, although some time it might be nice to share these odd experiences, but guess nobody would come close to understanding how it is to be the son of an artist....
