Well, Ma, you were right all along- nothing gets handed to me. But you never told me about how they’d take it away from me every time I got close.
Me feeling sorry for you isn’t the same as you feeling sorry for yourself. I thought I raised you to stand up for yourself – because this won’t be the last time you’ll have to. Because you better have some faith in yourself and the work you do. (Shakes canvas) I don’t understand this art of yours- but if you don’t respect it, who will? (pauses) You never had any respect. Now you don’t even respect yourself.
The Young Girl kicks the canvas out of her way and stalks off.
Mother: (Shouting after her)
What ever happened to all that peace and love you used to talk about?