Days of Shades

No.

I am a Damn Fine Artist.

This marks the end of this month's anti-fine-art theme, for a number of reasons. The first is that I'm more bizarre than usual when I've been up past my bedtime recently. This fact has prompted research into the exact moment of my appropriate bedtime, and current theory holds that the best possible bedtime for Skellington, from the point of view of the observer, is always roughly 3 hours prior to any given moment.

But I digress.

Firstly, I realise that my generalizations about fine art students and the uselessness of fine art are just that - gross generalizations. They exist, but I also have classmates whose work I would love to have on my walls. Two of them were critiqued today. Secondly, I realise that only people who have some background in art, or just understanding and love of being creative, would understand the glee, the potential, the excitment I feel when I look at my beautifully gessoed hardboards (Canvas sounds much nicer, but I realised last year that I don't actually like painting on canvas - you've no idea how happy I am to be discarding a medium/surface rather than adding another to my list of options. I feel decisive, especially since I'm crossing out a surface that takes a lot of frickin' work). Looking at the new 'web' section of my online portfolio I notice that some of the stuff there really isn't that shitty. Or maybe it just looks nice at 300px wide. Or maybe my vanilla latte is going to my head. Regardless.

I have now risen above it. The self centered pettiness shall scurry on below me, as if I was high on helium. In short, my Ego has reasserted itself (it helps that when Virginia was asked by some official to mention a student who was 'not nessecarily academically the top, but well rounded, intelligent, and familiar with the programs' she pointed to me). It helps that I realised that by the time I graduate I will have had work in at least five shows within a 9 month period. Possibly six shows. Quality/attendence at the shows aside (does anyone ever actually go to the B-gallery?), that's a ducky feeling. A dancing ducky feeling.

I have two musical instruments sitting at home in silent potential, three gessoed hardboards waiting for paint, sketchbooks to fill and webpages to populate. Life is good - at least until I come down off of my caffiene high. (Cost saving tip - if you quit caffeine for a month, getting that single shot gives you BUZZZ).

Now, fenmere, don't think for one moment that this means I'm backing out of the Propaganda Project. Quite the contrary, I'm in it with a will. With zest. Possibly even spit & vinegar. In point of fact, I have today hit on a delightful, a clever, yea, even a fiendish idea for the bombardment of the school. I'm not sure whether I can pull it off, and it will require some careful preparation, not to mention a few guaranteed casulaties - but do remember to ask me about it next time I see you.