Last Day at Art School

I was sitting at the desk in the front the front of the empty studio, with my feet propped up. I was feeling rather brain dead and was strumming away on my uke, listening to the notes reverberate back and forth between the walls of my skull. A bunch of students walked by, and as they continued on their way down the hall with their conversation fading off into the distance, one of them saw me and said to another (pretending to be me), "Noooo, I don't want to leave." To which another replied, "Ha ha, we should tell him he doesn't have to say. Chris, go home, ha ha ha."

Okay, yes, to some degree I'm probably feeling a bit sentimental about the whole thing, being that I've completed my last class. But a big part of it is not having much of a home to go back to. I spend about 90 hours a week in the studio, and it's just simply a place to be. Part of it is because I still have work to do (graduation requirements, portfolio fixing, etc), and this is where I do work. And part of why I was sitting in the studio alone, strumming to myself is because I wanna be alone.

We had the portfolio show yesterday, where I had the crashing realization that, well... My stuff isn't quite as sharp as everyone else's. The classmate to one side scored several business cards to fallow up on, the classmate to the other side got a job offer and an interview. And I got... Lots of lukewarm (or 'lukecool', if that's a word) reception to my stuff. People were most interested in my lasered business cards, rather than any of my work itself.

Kinda leaves me feeling rather... Unsure about things. I mean, I really don't know how I fit into this whole design picture. I really don't know if I'm meant for more information design, branding, advertising, editorial... And my portfolio reflected that. Kinda all over the place, and no one piece particularly strong. I'm not quite sure what I should be doing. The bigger and uglier question, of course, is whether or not I've just thrown away four years on education in a field that I'm really not particularly capable, no matter the man hours I seem to throw into it.

Now, truth be told, I did get two people that were somewhat interested in the animation work I've done, but that was kind of a let down because they were interested in the fact that it was motion, period. Not because it was necessarily good motion. And when that sits beside all the other stuff that I had put so much more time into that doesn't manage to grab attention... Bleh. In a way, I'm glad I have a (possible) opportunity to do another year of school, as if I can hide behind that rather than face the fact that I might not have much going for me professionally, and I won't get the opportunities I wish I could have.

It always sucks when you discover that you aren't quite as good at something as you had hoped. Maybe I'm more competitive than I thought, or maybe I can never quite see my own work through a satisfied lens, or maybe all this is fueled by the anxiety and uncertainty that comes with graduation. Probably all of the above.

Anyways, it is what it is. Nothing is for certain, life will go on. I may not be that good, but I'm pretty sure I'm not horrendous. And as long as there's an opening for a Not Horrendous Designer position, I have a chance. Just gotta keep them bills paid, yo. And find happiness in the small things along the way.

The moon last night was round and yellow and massive, hovering over the city skyline as if it was going to crush it all. It was gorgeous.
-Cril

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Me - Grad Song

I went to two (!!) parties after I made this post. As with most parties, I spent most my time standing/stitting in a corner a listening to people converse. Such is the nature of being an introvert, preferring to observe than to participate in this particular flavour of shenanigans.

The first party was actually hosted by one of my professors, who has pretty much in charge of fourth year studies. His house was incredible, as you'd expect someone of his intelligence and visual passion to be. It was nice to be around some of these professors in a non-academic setting for once. And even though I didn't do much in the way of talking, I was glad to be there. Near the end as things were wrapping up, he became very fatherly in a way, saying how proud he was of us and that we were a special year. In fact, this was the first time in five years that he hosted such a party, which he used to do every year. He said to make sure that we all try teaching at some point, and pointed to me saying that I understood, because I spent my Friday nights tutoring. We was pretty concerned as we left, due to those that were driving after taking a few drinks. Before I left, he shook my hand and told me that he learned a lot from me. It meant a lot to hear that, despite not knowing what he learned.

Then we all migrated to another party at a fellow student's place. Lots more drinking and games. Overly loud music. I had a looooong discussion with a very drunk classmate about philosophy religion and relationships. Over the course of the evening, I learned that plenty more individuals didn't get any exciting opportunities out of the portfolio show, which I found kinda comforting. Eventually I left around 10, after yelling out that it had been a pleasure to work with everyone that was in attendance, which received many cheers. Stepping outside into the cool spring night was a breath of fresh air, for my lungs and soul alike. Such gatherings are always fun, but it's always draining for me. Such is the way I'm wired, I suppose, but I never resent anyone for having a good time.

I'm trying to let go of things, and be okay with the fact that I'm not as good as I was hoping to be. Some people are naturally talented. And a result, those people are going to go places. My prof, before shaking my hand at the end of that party, approached two students (including Dylan, the closest friend I've had during my time at ACAD) and told them not to forget where they came from. You could tell that he knew these two students were going onwards and upwards. Me... Maybe not so much.

I guess I had assumed that the more hours you put into something meant that you'd get better than those that had not. If I were to crunch the numbers, I've spent maybe 60hrs a week for 40 weeks of the year doing hardcore graphic design stuff. That works out to 9600 hours over the course of the last four years. That means, according to some, I'm a mere 400 hours away from mastering visual communications. My mistake, though, is to assume that all hours are made equal. I logged my hours, and I worked hard to log more than most others did. But for Dylan, one hour is worth two or three of mine. Or, maybe, for most people, one of my hours is only worth 0.5 of theirs. And that's just the way it is.

I'll keep working, I'll keep creating. I may or may not ever be world-class. I may not ever have anyone that looks at me with any kind of awe or professional respect. I am not and may never be of that calibre.

But not everyone can be of that calibre, and only a few can get there, regardless of the 10,000 or 20,000 or 100,000 hours they put in. For me, I'm happy that one person (in this case my prof) shook my hand and told me that I was able to give him something. Yeah, I wanna be good at what I do and have all the opportunities and be wealthy. But there's more to life than that. And if I can make someone else's life better, well... Those are hours well spent.