Getting an early start at the age of 7, my first public art project was black felt tip on vinyl fabric. It led directly to the Principal's office.
Every day the bell would ring at 2:30pm, within minutes we would be on the school bus. The busses picked up the "private school" kids first before heading to the public school to pick up the others.
At 2:32pm I pulled the black felt tip marker from my backpack. Barely able to write, let alone read, I took the marker to my canvas: the green vinyl seat.
I wrote: Central sucks
Central was the public elementary school. I had no idea what "sucks" meant, I had just heard the older kids saying it.
The deed was done. I was proud of my work.
A few minutes later we pulled up at Central and the kids piled in. One kid noticed, then another, then the seat was surrounded. "Who did that? Tell the bus driver!" the kids gasped.
I had already moved seats somehow knowing I did not want the credit for this masterpiece.
After due inquiry, no culprits were found. The bus route resumed. I got off at my stop 16 minutes later. Accomplishment.
Accomplishment, until my first stop the next morning was the Principal's office. I got the credit after all.
As a tiny first grader in the Principal's office I knew I had done something wrong. I was remorseful.
Vowing never to do such a thing again, I also vowed to make sure if I was going to get caught anyway: I might was well sign my name.