Ode on an Art Room Cart.

This morning I decided to put my skills (or lack thereof) as a former English Lit/Art major to work.  Take THAT college loans, I got the best out of you today.  Ermmm, maybe not.

Take heed, folks, for the writing below exemplifies the effects of excessive coffee consumption. You have been warned.

Ode on an Art Room Cart

(inspired by Jon Keats' Ode on a Grecian Urn)

Thou mobile cart on rolling wheels,

Thou noble steed of metal mane,

Built of factory-made cold hard steels

A winning companion, organization no longer my bane.

What say you, my silent friend, housing the tools

Of which we mere mortals grasp with hands,

In varying shades of ink, oil, and wax, without them we would be remiss

What hides there on ye' underbelly, away from us fools 

But placemats to protect the tables in our lands.

What echoes down the hallway?  Thy rolling wheels of eternal bliss.

Sorry, but you're not getting five stanzas out of me, thankyouverymuch.  I'll leave that up to Keats.

But, just for kicks, check out my noble steed of metal mane below.  I am super lucky and have an art room to call home, so I am not a wandering art-on-a-cart teacher (bless you, those that are), but I LOVE my carts.  I've got one for my daily supply station, another for the kiln and clay supplies, and finally one for the work that needs to be hung/hanged/hunged....PUT UP?  So much for that English degree.

I recently attached a portfolio to its underside to house the messy mats we use on a regular basis too.

The mini cart below is the Art Cart that usually houses work that needs to be placed around the building too.

As good ol' Keats says, heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are even sweeter.  I think I unhear more coffee calling my name...until next time, Miss French Fry out!