Orson Zedd
• • • 0 • • •
From the Memoirs of Tituas Kihevliann
9 August 14417
“Dear Father; the two happiest days of my life were my graduation from Parsons Paris
and the day I was appointed by Dr. Pidreod Vowtemkin to be his assistant. Those times you
criticized me for wasting my time in an endeavor which would never result in great wealth or
notoriety, I remember with the knowledge that, at least in one thing, I was right, though you’ll
never admit it.”
I took the letter in my hand, looking it over. “Today would be the day I send it,” I’d said
to myself before reducing it to rubbish. I couldn’t conceive of any alternative career. Both
mother and father had passed onto me their skills and I’d learned to paint before I’d learned to
walk, of course I’d study art. There was never any question whether I’d dedicate my life to art’s
study and preservation as far as I was concerned.
“The planet’s at war and you want to study art? Stop being daft, Titch! Apply yourself to
something lasting!” the argument went.
“Art is lasting!” I’d counter, “You were an artist. Of all people you should know how it
defines the zeitgeist!” But he wouldn’t have it. If mom hadn’t died, perhaps the rift wouldn’t’ve
formed. I keep saying I’ll write to him, but there must be more letters to my father in my
memoirs than he has ever received.
The other argument he made was that when Paris fell, which, he said, would happen
Orson Zedd
• • • 0 • • •
From the Memoirs of Tituas Kihevliann
9 August 14417
“Dear Father; the two happiest days of my life were my graduation from Parsons Paris
and the day I was appointed by Dr. Pidreod Vowtemkin to be his assistant. Those times you
criticized me for wasting my time in an endeavor which would never result in great wealth or
notoriety, I remember with the knowledge that, at least in one thing, I was right, though you’ll
never admit it.”
I took the letter in my hand, looking it over. “Today would be the day I send it,” I’d said
to myself before reducing it to rubbish. I couldn’t conceive of any alternative career. Both
mother and father had passed onto me their skills and I’d learned to paint before I’d learned to
walk, of course I’d study art. There was never any question whether I’d dedicate my life to art’s
study and preservation as far as I was concerned.
“The planet’s at war and you want to study art? Stop being daft, Titch! Apply yourself to
something lasting!” the argument went.
“Art is lasting!” I’d counter, “You were an artist. Of all people you should know how it
defines the zeitgeist!” But he wouldn’t have it. If mom hadn’t died, perhaps the rift wouldn’t’ve
formed. I keep saying I’ll write to him, but there must be more letters to my father in my
memoirs than he has ever received.
The other argument he made was that when Paris fell, which, he said, would happen
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Orson Zedd
• • • 0 • • •
From the Memoirs of Tituas Kihevliann
9 August 14417
“Dear Father; the two happiest days of my life were my graduation from Parsons Paris
and the day I was appointed by Dr. Pidreod Vowtemkin to be his assistant. Those times you
criticized me for wasting my time in an endeavor which would never result in great wealth or
notoriety, I remember with the knowledge that, at least in one thing, I was right, though you’ll
never admit it.”
I took the letter in my hand, looking it over. “Today would be the day I send it,” I’d said
to myself before reducing it to rubbish. I couldn’t conceive of any alternative career. Both
mother and father had passed onto me their skills and I’d learned to paint before I’d learned to
walk, of course I’d study art. There was never any question whether I’d dedicate my life to art’s
study and preservation as far as I was concerned.
“The planet’s at war and you want to study art? Stop being daft, Titch! Apply yourself to
something lasting!” the argument went.
“Art is lasting!” I’d counter, “You were an artist. Of all people you should know how it
defines the zeitgeist!” But he wouldn’t have it. If mom hadn’t died, perhaps the rift wouldn’t’ve
formed. I keep saying I’ll write to him, but there must be more letters to my father in my
memoirs than he has ever received.
The other argument he made was that when Paris fell, which, he said, would happen
การแปล กรุณารอสักครู่..
