I intend to hold you

Jan 08, 2007 22:06

Ugh. I just realized that I'm an even bigger bitch than I was two days ago. I forgot to call someone. Sometimes there could be nothing more comforting than a time machine...

But I didn't decide to update because of that. I didn't decide to update about New Years, either. Or Christmas. Or anything else that I should probably update about but don't feel like regurgitating(/choking/vomiting) the stories for. Nope, I feel like updating ‘cause I liked school today.

First class blew, we won't discuss that. Second class: 2-D Design and Digital Imaging. My teacher looks like an art teacher with the whole "i've got one earring, a dress-casual style and a vampiric accent" thing. My class was composed entirely of punk-emo kids wearing dirty boot-leg pants and messed-up converses during my moment of entrance, but the demographics changed slightly when the two moms and "interior design" students made their way in. It's aaaaaall good. It was just way too exciting to walk into a room filled with stereotypical starving artists in slightly varying shape and form. The vibes were good, basically, and I liked where I was and what I was meant to do there. The “scary” parts of the syllabus and the “tough” journey ahead towards my visual arts major only sounded exciting and closely similar to things I’ve wanted forever. Not to mention, this is my first class with less than twenty people in it.

What's more exciting, however, is that this is also the first class in which I'll be doing something I've always loved. My youth was filled with craft books checked out from the library, and as soon as I was allowed to choose my electives in school, they were consistently in the art room. Now that I’m breaching my college years of importance and have needed to decide what knowledge I’m, theoretically, going to carry with me for the rest of my life, I’ve found myself excited about the direction I’m pointed in. I want to learn artistic terminology. I want to draw and paint and sketch and spray and buy materials only to show them their real potential. I want to create a portfolio to be judged by entirely. I want to be in freaking art school!

This was months ago:

ANDREA: I don’t know what to major in. ::Complains about everything sucking and her having no life-relevant interests.::
JUSTIN: What do you want to do to make money for the next few decades?
ANDREA: ::thinks for a minute:: I guess be on a real estate team.
JUSTIN: Well then, pick something fun to major in. Don’t worry about what job it’ll get you.

So I did, and here I am, never more excited. The highlight of my not-so-careery career (as I see it now) would be to walk through a gallery of my own work. It would be held in Atlanta, and all the fancy people would have paid money to enter the giant room under the assumption that they would be moved to emotion by the things they beheld, and my creations would not disappoint. The things I like to draw are those that inspire the strongest feelings in me, and there’s nothing I’d like better than to share those feelings or create different but similarly strong ones.

For the longest time.

There’s always something stuck in my head, goshdurnit…
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