When I was in art school I had a drawing and printmaking professor named Dave. Dave is a brilliant man. He’s lived and stuff, so he knows things. You know? Freshman year, 8am MWF. My best friend Casey and I would drag our sleepy selves to the 4th floor of the Art and Journalism building and into his class… Drawing 1. We’d sit on the high stools at the drawing tables that formed a circle around the pedestal in the center of the room, and sit and wait for Dave to start talking.