1250. The professor was no different than every last one of his students. Everything he did or would ever do had the trademark of his own unique personality, as inescapable as the fingerprint, and certain as a signature. Even his sneezes and his handshake were overdetermined to the point of tedium. Tedious, unless you like that kind of thing in a forensic kind of way.
1251. That was the type of thing Mrs. Festini was telling us about in the art class, and another favorite subject was perspective. Most people think that perspective is a dry, uninteresting mathematical approach to making art, but for Festini it was almost a religion. Things like the vanishing point and the horizon line, when she set out to explain it, took on an aspect you would never have imagined.
1252. As usual, the things she would say became so convoluted and confusing that we could hardly follow along, as for myself by the time she got to the third sentence of her explanations I was completely lost. One time I asked her to tell us how far back the vanishing point was in a picture. I wanted to know if it was all the way in the distance, or nearer to the front of things. She said it was neither near nor far. Here is her entire explanation, see if you can make head or tail of it.
1253. She said, everyone has heard of a horizon line and a vanishing point and I am sure that most of you remember drawing in high school some odd looking buildings with the assistance of a horizon line and a vanishing point. So we go through life imagining that above, beyond, or behind everything we see is a vanishing point and we could see it if there weren't so many things blocking our view.