A full half of Zoe’s grade in Art lay before her on the table; her portfolio, staring back at her with eyes that said
I’m not good enough. “Dammit,” she muttered under her breath, reaching across the table to rearrange a couple of pieces to see if changing their juxtaposition would have an effect on the layout of the rest of the work. It did help a bit.
Her theme was
displacement, though she’d spent too long at the start of the term changing from theme to theme before she worked this one out. She’d started with
war but lots of other people were doing war, and had done war in the past, and besides had parents or older siblings in the army so could tie personal stories into the narrative. Zoe had plenty of personal war stories but a lot of them were a little too fantastical to explain, and she wasn't going to touch the theme of the shooting with a ten foot pole. She’d considered putting some heavy religious imagery to symbolise the Templar but was afraid of pissing them off. Not that the Templar would probably ever see her portfolio but still. The markers would interpret it wrong.
( ... )