In secondary school I did not really worry about the Art class assignments. Other things preoccupied my mind- playing around the small stream on the road leading to the staff quarters, or just wandering about in the huge patch of land beside the staff quarters where we also dropped bomb (defecated), slept, or just dodged being part of clean up exercises. Life was too interesting to waste it in class. It was the memories of life that I relayed in my artwork. The colors, the emotional stimuli all gave meaning to form and representation.
In university days, I found an easier way around it. Each assignment or exam question seemed like a hide and seeks game. The lecturer taunted the students to do a kind of mind reading, to find out what he thinks. I would search for all possible answers for most of the duration of the exercise, and in a few minutes I will be done. In the real world, the intent has not changed much. One will be on point more often, if one stays with the prevailing current. The work can depart from there into dreamland. Success comes at a price. Positions must be interchanged on the road.