drawing circles

When I first started art school it felt ridiculous. I was really unsure of myself, especially since most of the kids in the program knew they wanted to pursue art, whereas I kind of just fell into the program by accident. I initially started out in the Interior Design program, which was eventually bought out by the Architecture Department, which subsequently meant you had to reapply to the School of Architecture (no matter how many years you were in the program), which I did, and failed to get in. I remember when I got the news, I went to my car and cried.

They gave me options though. I could be a painter, a sculptor, a photographer or a graphic designer. I guess it all turned out to be a blessing in disguise. No complaints, except that I wish I finished this a long time ago.

In art school, you have to get over a certain level of embarrassment in front of your classmates. You have to learn to B.S. your way into the minds of your professors and learn to use cliche art-phrases to explain WHY you did you what you did, which you eventually start believing yourself. It was really hard for me at first, but then you just get used to it.

Here are some highlights of when I felt the most ridiculous:
Painting different sized black circles for a whole semester, then putting them on the wall and discussing why I placed them in certain areas. Those discussions usually lasted 3 hours.
Doing an exercise where the professor played different types of music, asked us to close our eyes and sway while scribbling on a pad. I was extremely uncomfortable during this one because I knew people were peeking. Then we had to put them on a wall and discuss them.
There was one time the teacher asked us to make different textures using things that wouldn't be considered, such as soap, olive oil, gasoline, sand, etc... I kept thinking about how lame it all was, and I didn't get what the hell we were supposed to do that for. In the end, it kind of became a competition on who uses the most outlandish materials. I always felt like it was the walk of shame as you walked up to the wall and tacked up your stuff. Not only is everyone judging you and your work, but you have to openly discuss it too. Thankfully, my classes aren't like that anymore. We still have to talk about our work, but it has gotten easier now that we've been conditioned to do so.

One of my classes this semester is about modern culture and documentation of this era. The projects are kind of gimmicky, but I like the ideas behind it. Our current project requires building a journal based on different events, thoughts and discoveries. I have always wanted to do something like that, but never really had the motivation to do so. I like saving a lot of crap that I think have sentimental value, so it would be reasonable to just stick it in a journal. Basically, the project calls for us to do things that we normally wouldn't consider doing in our "busy" lives and then find things that relate to that event and compose it into a handmade journal. Maybe a ticket stub, a wrapper from some candy you ate that night, writing down a phrase that someone said that day...I like this stuff, but I think Philip has a different take on it.

Something I did this weekend that that I have never done before was attend GoodPhil. I like watching Philip play sports. Watching all these people be all athletic made me wish I could be all Sporty Spice-y sometimes and that I had nice thighs and a nice butt. I think I'm going to put that in my journal somehow.

Jess