Exposure

He brought it into class on a Wednesday afternoon, framed and
polished. There were others rolled up in tubes and carried under his
arm.

They sat waiting, some a little nervous, expecting to be embarrassed,
others hoping that their mentor would not reveal himself to be a sham.
There was silence as he took his place at the front of the class. He
stood drinking in their expectation, sure that he would not disappoint.
Someone giggled at the back of the class. The principal did not even
notice. This was the moment he would unleash his talent onto
impressionable young minds, the artists of the future. Not that he
considered any of them to possess any talent. But for this moment it
suited his purposes to think of them as poised on the threshold of
greatness, needing only the right inspiration to burst forth into pure
artistic expression. He was about to provide that inspiration.

When the class was entirely quiet he moved away from the desk and,
picking up the framed picture, propped it up on the desk for them all
to see. He sat on the desk beside the picture watching them, waiting
for a response. There was silence as the entire class gazed upon a
large, colourful ( pastels and charcoal on sugar paper - untitled)
picture of their principal in the nude. Pleased at the silence and
interpreting it as awe and reverence he turned his back on them and
began to unroll the others, pinning them on the notice boards until the
room was ringed with portraits of the nude principal. Some took their
inspiration from classical poses other, he like to think, had a more
casual relaxed style. He had finished pinning up the last one and was
turning to his audience for their thoughts when the bell rang and the
class filed out to lunch looking, without exception, at their feet.