A rant is an angry ramble.
I love and hate art. I just want to sit down for a couple of hours and doodle. Now that's the side of art I like. The casual art. The hit and run art. Art that doesn't care who judges it, because it's spontaneous and and you can just sit the fuck down with your high expectations and load of textbook bs. I love that art. Not the fiddling around with bloody charcoal for hours on end trying not to get it on my clothes or inhale it while trying to get my head around an unfamiliar medium while trying to please a professor I don't fully understand by getting everything proportionally accurate and the lighting just so. Her accent's thick, and that combined with her roundabout way of conveying ideas (or failing to) just makes for a giant mind-crushing muddle of tedium. I WANT TO DOODLE, DAMN IT.
I miss last semester's art prof. He encouraged creativity. This one drowns it out with still lifes and technicality. I'M SICK OF DRAWING POTS ARRANGED IN CLOTH. THERE ARE ONLY SO MANY WAYS TO MAKE POTS AND CLOTH INTERESTING. AND I COUNT ONE. THE FIRST ONE I DREW. AND THEN I LOST INTEREST FOREVER. I have a whole semester of this to look forward to. I'm counting the days till it's over. THEN I WILL SMASH ALL OF THE POTS WITH A HAMMER AND SET FIRE TO THE CLOTH AND LAUGH AS ALL THE STILL LIFES ARE ENGULFED IN FLAAAMMEEE BURNING DESTROY EXTERMINATE
It's ironic that I'm considering skipping out on art class to stay in to sculpt and work on my comic, but hey. Fuck it. I stopped giving a damn three hours ago, halfway through a geoscience lab that's far too long and far too early in the morning for anyone to want to even live, much less try to find a nice way to tell the Mormons to rebuild Salt Lake City elsewhere, because they're totally fucked if there's a major earthquake. I'm going to do what I want.
I miss last semester's art prof. He encouraged creativity. This one drowns it out with still lifes and technicality. I'M SICK OF DRAWING POTS ARRANGED IN CLOTH. THERE ARE ONLY SO MANY WAYS TO MAKE POTS AND CLOTH INTERESTING. AND I COUNT ONE. THE FIRST ONE I DREW. AND THEN I LOST INTEREST FOREVER. I have a whole semester of this to look forward to. I'm counting the days till it's over. THEN I WILL SMASH ALL OF THE POTS WITH A HAMMER AND SET FIRE TO THE CLOTH AND LAUGH AS ALL THE STILL LIFES ARE ENGULFED IN FLAAAMMEEE BURNING DESTROY EXTERMINATE
It's ironic that I'm considering skipping out on art class to stay in to sculpt and work on my comic, but hey. Fuck it. I stopped giving a damn three hours ago, halfway through a geoscience lab that's far too long and far too early in the morning for anyone to want to even live, much less try to find a nice way to tell the Mormons to rebuild Salt Lake City elsewhere, because they're totally fucked if there's a major earthquake. I'm going to do what I want.