Contributor: H. C. Turk
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We view my father's masterpiece hanging in the school museum. The medium is egg on canvas, not egg tempera. No one knows how he did it. He's retired, so he won't say. And I won't describe the imagery, which is only what you see. The same as any great art, the content consists of expressed ideas. Hmm, now we're thinking.
My closest friend, F1 (another educator), only has to look a moment before the condemnation.
"G did the same thing."
G could be my love, if the expression could be found in my lexicon.
"It can't be the same. This is unique."
"So 'same' means plagiarism."
Since this is an opening, G arrives. I haven't been seeing her. The three of us chat. I know exactly how I feel about G, but can't express the idea. If you could only see it.... She admires the painting. I admire her skin: it's so smooth,...
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Author:
H. C. Turk
