For my contemporary art class we have to write an obituary for a living artist. My professor told us to get creative and "figure a way to kill them off." It is the most assinine and insensitive project. Perhaps a few years ago I would have not seen the blatant crassness of this paper, but now it is painful to write, my whole body hurts.

"It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things."

— Lemony Snicket Horseradish: Bitter Truths You Can't Avoid