The first she learned about art, was… the art of defending herself
It was a Saturday afternoon, Camila and her mom were sitting behind the house, in the shade of the banana and guadua bamboo trees. It was a nice, cozy spot, full of flowers in colourful pots. The day’s work had been done, and Camila had finished her share of cleaning out all the chicken coops. While Camila cut her mom’s hair, they were enjoying a quiet conversation between themselves.
“Sometimes I’m just too good and easy going for you, Camila. Don´t you dare pick up a book while your cutting my hair! They only thing I don’t need, is for you to cut my eyelashes off while you’re at it…!”
“But how can you even say that. You wait and see how nice your hair is going to look. Once I finish, then, I’ll go and pick up a book to read for a while.”
“You see? That’s the problem with you, child. Look, your Dad gives me a hard time with that reading of yours. He thinks that you live with your head stuck in a paper world.”
“How’s that? You know that I do my share of the chores. I never leave for school without finishing up. When I ‘m back in the afternoon, I work on whatever needs to be done. You can’t just say that I’m lazy, or that I waste my time. If I work with a book in hand, well… that’s my problem, as long as I do it well.”
“Don’t work it out on me, I’m not the one that’s saying or not. Don’t kill me off, I’m just the messenger…”
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