Whatever you do, Do Not ask a cross-eyed art teacher where he is looking.
I did that once. It was awful. I swear I tried to be good in my teacher’s class. He didn’t see it that way. No pun intended. I felt compassion for the guy. For his benefit, I tried to see things the way he saw them . . . with crossed-eyes. No kidding.
In class, he had set out a fruit basket with a pear in the center, an apple on the right of it, and purple grapes on the other side. Because of my compassion, I painted the fruit basket the way I figured he saw things . . . so I painted the pear in the center, the apple on the left side of the pear, and the purple grapes on the right side.
He thought I was being a…
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