This week marked the first week of spring semester, my final semester as an undergrad.
But, as it was only the first week, there really wasn’t much happening.
So, here’s the line up for my final semester:
1. Wheel throwing and Firing
2. Documentary Photography
3. Print Strategies
4. Figure Painting
5. Senior Studio
In theory, this would be an ideal class schedule. I’ve had all of the professors before and have enjoyed them all. It’s a nice blend of media and things that interest me and that I already have skills in to build upon.
But, in reality, my class schedule has turned out to be, so far, oversized classes stocked with the same set of art students (mainly VC) who are all at least a year behind me. In short, it’s kind of awful.
Mostly, I feel old. Really, incredibly old. All of the kids I have my classes with all took their foundations classes together and travel together in this strange cult-like fashion. In my case, the people I was closest to during my foundations year (apparently your formative and most important year when it comes to deciding who you will ever speak to) are now either graduates or have transferred to other schools. Thus, I am in my final semester alone and feeling old, tired, and worn out.
And it’s only the first week.
If it were not already apparent by my biting snark, I hate people. I mean, not all people, I do have some very good, close friends. But, I’d say, at least (and this is a conservative estimate) 90% of my peers.
You know, they’re in the way and they talk about celebrity culture and wear North Face and drink copious amounts of Starbucks, it’s not my thing. And apparently, especially here, if that’s not your thing you have no friends (or at least that in addition to having what my sister refers to as “chronic bitchface”).
But either way, I am left without a support system here. Which is hard. I know that great art is most often born out of misery (can’t spell “painting” without “pain,” am I right?) but this is different. I don’t feel anguish, I just feel isolated. And so, completely alone.
What is it adults do once they graduate and leave their college friends? My emotional support system is gone and replaced by some new young things that I keep bumping elbows with because of our ridiculous overcrowded studio classes.
But enough of my griping. Clearly I am displacing my need for people to talk to about my problems onto the internet.
(But isn’t that what it’s for?)
For the most part classes have been good. In the case of ceramics and photo we’ve spent the week doing review which is painfully dull and repetitive but should get better.
Right now, despite the fact that we haven’t really done anything, senior studio actually feels most valuable. It’s totally open-ended and is really just a critique and portfolio building class but I feel like that’s really what I need right now.
So bright and early (ie-around 11) I went into the ceramics studio and got to some throwing.
The early makings of a teapot, complete with several lids and spouts.
I’ve really fucking missed throwing. Every time I go back to it without having thrown for a month or two that’s always my first reaction.
(Unfortunately, throwing actually uses muscles in my torso and in the ribs area that I had previously pulled and/or injured making the next morning incredibly painful).
Also, as I have never taken a figure class before (I know, right?) I am finally getting around to it.
We had our first model on Wednesday night. Not nearly as awkward as I expected it to be, but much more difficult. I clearly need the practice with figure work and color (and working quickly, I don’t know how Bob Ross does it).
But, overall, I feel like i can tentatively declare this semester as promising. Maybe my grand hatred for everyone will translate into some incredible artwork.
Artwork that no one will see because I have no friends in the area to invite to my BFA show.
Oh well, at least I’ll always have you, internet.