Back to the Studio

I just finished my first week of graduate-level Painting Theory and Development.

I feel that title is a bit vague, so instead I am going to call it Stand in front of a canvas and paint for six hours a day, every day, until you feel like you need a hip replacement at the age of thirty. Also, check your ego at the door.

Yes, SIFOACAPFSHADEDUYFLYNAHRATAOT/ACYEATD is much more comprehensive.

Sure it's been ten years since I've taken a studio class, but I really forgot how exhausting it is. Yesterday (only day 4 of 15, mind you) I was already over it. Seriously. I had to call a friend and have him talk me out of quitting right there. I am doing self-portraits right now, and I am so sick of myself that at home I don't even want to look in a mirror.

You know you're back in art school when on the first day your professor says,

"This class is six hours a day, but don't worry - the building is open 24/7 so you will have plenty of time to get your work done."

Right. Because we couldn't possibly accomplish anything worthy of a passing grade in the NINETY HOURS of allotted class time.

I'm off to a brilliant start, too. Today I worked four hours on a piece for the professor to essentially tell me I ruined it. Then he adds this tidbit,

"I appreciate your candor, but you really need to take an 20th Century art history class. It's pointless for me to reference artists when you don't know who they are."

Awesome.