Theft by Finding - David Sedaris

the start of class he said that no question was a stupid question. So I raised my hand and asked if we
could use part of the room as a smoking section.
He said “No” twice, and several of my fellow students whispered, “Good.” One of these, a
woman, was wearing a smock with the signatures of famous artists printed on it: Matisse, van Gogh,
Rousseau. She had brought four of her paintings to class, large landscapes, and leaned them beside
one another against the wall.
Later in the afternoon, Ted took us to the museum and talked about de Kooning. I like how worked
up he got. Signature Smock glared at me the entire time we were in the museum, though I don’t know
why.
October 1, 1985
Chicago
I read a National Examiner article about Christina Onassis, who has apparently gone to a weightreduction
farm. She’s trying her best, but still they referred to her as a “lardy lass” and, worse still,
“that Greek tanker.”
October 17, 1985
Chicago
I stayed up all night and worked on my new story. Unfortunately, I write like I paint, one corner at
a time. I can never step back and see the whole picture. Instead I concentrate on a little square and
realize later that it looks nothing like the real live object. Maybe it’s my strength, and I’m the only one
who can’t see it.
October 20, 1985
Chicago
On Thursday the Cherokee Nation elected their first woman leader. Her name is Wilma Mankiller.
Kim’s husband gets his hair cut at a place called Blood, Sweat, and Shears.
October 24, 1985
Chicago
Before leaving school tonight I reexamined the painting of a briefcase I’ve been working on and
got depressed. It looks like it was done by a seventh-grader. At the end of class I signed it Vic
Stevenson. That’s the name of the motel manager in the story I’m writing. Between now and my