<i><span style="font-family:Philosopher"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#00b300"><b>There was no class that morning, at least not for Shawn Olson. He had received an email from his German teacher that class would not be held that day. That left an hour in his day open for catching up on other classwork, particularly work for an art class he had enrolled in to satisfy a requirement for the university. He was in school to eventually become a translator or interpreter, so why waste time with unrelated courses? "We want our students to have a well-rounded education", it was said enough he could recite the words verbatim. He saw that his time could be better spent engrossed in articles, listening to radio broadcasts, etc. in his target language, as well as looking for any kind of freelance work of translating that he could do.  In the realm of the language department, he was well-known by his teachers and fellow students that shared his goals.<br/>
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Shawn was never a big fan of art classes. He felt the absence of structure and rules of how to do projects and whatnot was paralyzing, that he never knew what to do because there were no limits. Where should he begin?  Language was something he loved because he could communicate with people, and still follow a logical set of rules in grammar. He was a logically-minded person, and sometimes that was his problem.  In fact, many people told him that he needed to get out of his own head.  Sometimes it was a matter of missing out on the real experience of being a student at a university.<br/>
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Working in this particular class, though, this drawing class where his only expected supplies were paper, graphite and charcoal, this teacher of his, she made it a more pleasant experience for him. He enjoyed coming to class, doing work, albeit not exactly the most sociable with his classmates, and sneaking a peek or two at his teacher, this exotic beauty.  His classmates came off as a bit pretentious to him, but isn't that the usual stereotype with the art crowd?  <br/>
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It was raining that morning. The pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the windows filled an otherwise silent corridor. Shawn was sitting outside the art studio, his nose in his German dictionary highlighting words he wanted to teach himself, always trying to meet his self-imposed goal of learning ten to twenty new words each week.  He quietly mumbled the words to himself as he waited for his art class to meet. He was looking forward to hearing the clacking of his teacher's heels on the tile floor to let him in.</b></span></span></i>