I'm No Better an Artist than I Was Before

2:06 AM. Still awake.

Thankfully, no work in the morning, and no school, either.

The other thing that's been keeping me up:

I turn in my work on time and I am seldom satisfied with it. Does my work usually get an A? Yes. Am I consistent in my approach to getting things accomplished in a clean and professional manner? Yes. Dean's List Student? Most of the time, Yes.

So why am I so unsatisfied?

I'll tell you why. I saw some amazing illustration in my class critique today. We were to put together a 24-page publication. I used photos and type treatments. People liked my work, the instructor liked my work, and I agree: it's likeable. There's no disputing that. But I want to take that of which I am capable and push the limits! And there's never time!

So tonight I see some AMAZING, unfinished work by a few of my peers, who took the time to do the illustrations by hand (something at which I am brilliant!), but had a lot of unfinished holes in their publications. Sure, they may get a lower grade, maybe. They may have trouble getting the next project going, maybe. BUT THEY WILL HAVE THIS BRILLIANT PIECE OF WORK THEY LOVE that is THEIRS to enjoy forever. I feel very little attachment to anything I have done in my portfolio. Because all of it is rushed, and you get very little time to make anything the way you really want to.

Another truth. I cannot believe I am saying it.

But I always wanted to use my hands, to become a better ARTIST, in the sense of developing my God-given abilities in drawing and painting. And what have I done? What have I learned? I will draw and paint exactly the same as I did before I spent the umpteen thousand dollars. And that, to me, is disappointing. I can, however, use the computer to make things like logos and calendars and brochures and ads and posters and magazines and catalogs and such. How enriching. I get to become part of the media, a contributor to endless junkmail and part of "Buy, buy says the sign in the shop window/Why, why says the junk in the yard". How it fulfills my soul.

Not.

Which is why I want to say, UNIVERSE, please hear me. Please take care of me and place me where I can be of service given the talents and skills I have. I want to work for a non-profit I can believe in, a cause, perhaps. I want to support The Arts, then. Let me work for the (Company Name). Let them call me. Let me help a company that does good. Let me work hard, I want to work. I want to do something I can believe in. Otherwise, what is the point? What is the point of pretending? I choose to live authentically and I want to use my talents: organization, polish, drawing, painting, logo development.

If nothing else, at least give me a job that will allow me to afford one dance class and one painting class each week. Or maybe I could alternate weeks.

I am so very tired, and yet, still not sleepy. But we've established much. Teeth, job, dance, paint, help people. These are the things I want to do.

I want to point out that the instructors at my school are some of the most amazing, and wonderful teachers I have ever had. I cannot knock them. I, however, do wish the school would consider things like replacing required math (algebra, really?) with something I could use, like another illustration class. Although I hear those are soon to fall by the wayside to make more room for more web classes. And we needed more web. But we also needed, (some of us) to be artists in the old-fashioned sense. I still do.

And I think another thing that it eating at me is that my grandfather is not doing well. He will not live long. And I will not likely have the means to go to his funeral when he passes. And this upsets me. I know he wasn't everyone's favorite guy, and he wasn't perfect to his daughters and his wife. . .but he was always my Pap, and he was always good to me, and he always made me laugh simply because he was the way he was. And I am sad to know I will not get to say "see-ya on the flipside". I am.

2:30 AM and Jeremy is sleeping like a baby.