My Chautauqua Essay -- Personal Narrative essay about myself

My Chautauqua   I have a inclination of an orbit to forget to breathe when Im sitting in my art history class. A double slew projector set-up shoots its characteristic artillery - bright colors, intense shapes, inscriptions in languages that ar at times read merely as symbols by my untrained mind, archaic figures with bodies contorted like elementary school students on the recess monkey bars. I discuss Diego Riveras The Liberation of the Peon, Frida Kahlos Self-Portrait, and Anselm Kiefers To the Unknown cougar with my classmates. The room is never silent as we marvel at these images. When the slide projectors give off that first glimmer of light, their Gatsby spot of a hazy green hope at the end of the dock, we depart on our joint imaginary field trips. The teacher doesnt need to coax, to pry, to pose multiple-choice questions. We are already on our way.   I wander down the Hall of Mirrors in the French Palace of Versailles. Soon after I am mentation of the converse style, and recall that German Architect Mies van der Rohe has created the most simple a...