He sat there on his stool, dip, stroke, mix, stroke, smudge, and stroke.  It wasn’t turning out right.  He sat there for fifteen minutes just focused on that one iris.  Figuring it wouldn’t get better with constant anger at it, he moved on to the hair.  Other people walked by, complimenting his work, but he never felt like he met his full potential.  While he grew up, his mom and dad (now divorced) always taught him to do things with the best of his ability.  They shaped him into what he was today, someone who worked hard and appreciated the hard work of other people.  He would crack a joke or two to anyone around him to distract him from his self- thought flawed work and that’s what got him through the class period.