They came into the room in ones and twos, finishing their conversations as they found where they had to be. As they settled, they looked around and eyes lingered on various things and looks of approval, confusion or downright disregard crossed their faces.
It was time. They knew the drill as it wasn’t the first time this had happened. Like it or not this place was to be their home for the next few days.
A hush cloaked the warm atmosphere as heads bent, work began and the sense of finality hung in the air. But gradually the mood relaxed as they started what they had been instructed to do. No two people had the same plan, but as things emerged similarities could be seen. Common threads that showed the inspiration source and common goal were woven across the silent space.
We watched in silence.
Magical, dancing figures emerged. Colourful bursts of imagination moved across the tables. Intricate lines threaded themselves in and out of each other. It was a privilege to see it happen in such closeness. I had never seen this before but had heard from others just how wonderful it was if you were one of the “chosen”.
The hours flew as the magic mounted and forms took shape and colours brightened and images materialised until the time to leave arrived.
I watched everything sit in creative silence until the creators left, to resume the conversations they had been denied for so long.
I went home . . . thrilled to have witnessed it.
I told those close to me about it and they envied me.
I knew I would never forget it.
Who would know that invigilating an art exam could bring such joy