Hotep,

We have the extraordinary privilege to be a high school social science teacher. Within that experience we met and have grown to love one Nick Ross, student, son, former/future significant other, man, friend, Lego™ connoisseur, toy collector, brother, artist.

Being a professional educator we have always said that the 36 minds in our classroom must be smarter than our one thinkspot. We simply had more information regarding the subject matter at hand. But each collection of pupils contained assortments of experts in ballet, rodeo, the four elements of hip hop, medieval armaments. But rare was the time we could point to a single brain in the room with more native intelligence than ours. Nick Ross is one of those moments/intellects. But he’s the only one we could stand to be around. His knowing that he’s smarter than those around him didn’t make him a jerk. Even with that crooked smirk he’s way to loving and loveable.

In some cultures being part of the intelligensia means one can read and write. In other cultures it means you are the most creative, i.e., you have your antenna extremely high. Whatever the criteria, Nick Ross must be a member. Not that he’s a joiner. In fact, count him out even as you can always count on him—at least to 21. But he’s not even legal yet.

In economics class we do an Earth Day set that takes several days. Nick Ross flat out refused to take part in one two-day exercise because he deciphered the payoff of the lesson plan from the directions and decided it just wasn’t worth the effort—especially since his group was discussing a tangent that would miss the point of the assignment. He was the only student to unravel that set at the beginning. Some very good students still needed explanations after we’d finished the two days. But that’s Nick Ross.

Yes he has several guitars. So what. Listen to what comes out when he picks up any guitar. Watch what happens when a camera gets in between him and his subject. Media may be irrelevant. Something that you’ve never had emerges.

We had a couple of Nick Ross’ pieces around our classroom. But the charcoal above the door as you walked out to the rickety porch…. There were the tops of two shoes just hanging over the edge of a tall building. Sprawled out beneath the toes was a part of what felt like “the big city,” grit and grime. But it was the perspective that was creepy creeping into your own nightmares; just slightly cantilevered over to see the facade of the building on which our falling hero will no longer stand. But our interpretation has to be wrong.

Nick Ross’ most widely known painting hung in the US capital building for a year—the prize for winning some congressional competition. It shows a marionette, more a study model, carrying its own control sticks. So many folk thought it was Yoshea carrying his cross that Nick Ross finally stopped laughing and simply said, “Yeah.”

Art is a message carrying the hopes and dreams of the artist to an adoring audience. No, to a group that’s not paying attention. But they’ll pay lots of money if you could just get it to match the drapes. Scratch that, Art is a wink to those in the know and a sneer behind everyone’s back. Well, greenbacks. Wait, that’s not it. But trust me, Nick Ross knows what it is. Because he’s smarter than you, too. No, really. Just ask him.

By the way, Robert Hughes has gone on and on about how modern art is dead. Wonder if he’s met the killer?

-Matef Harmachis