I'm struggling to find the point in lots of things at the moment. Art school is one such thing.
Art school is hard work. Don't get me wrong, I am not afraid of hard work. In fact, I like hard work. I like spending 12hrs at university and staying in the library until it closes. I love sketchbooks and filling them with ideas and prototypes and practise after practise of new techniques. Fat sketchbooks are the key to a happy heart in my opinion. Hard work is always worth it when it pays off. I happily work 12hr shifts in my part time job, I work night shifts and anti social hours because I like my job, and the work I do there is appreciated. At work, hard work pays off. At art school, that is not the case. I am sick of working myself to death, staying up to stupid hours of the morning, only to stand up in front of my class in a critique, to have my hard work torn apart by tutors.
Art is the only thing I've ever really been any good at and I love it. I love drawing, I love sewing, I love making things. I love photography. I love craft. My degree is slowly poisoning my passion for what I do. I feel like I'm doing everything wrong and it's exhausting. I'm sick of feeling run down and not having the time or energy to cook proper meals.
I can't decide whether it's worth it. I don't know if I can handle two more years of feeling out of place, and then what? More of the same? Standing up in front of potential clients, being treated in exactly the same way. The art world is hard. I don't want to live a life that is a constant struggle to prove I'm worth something.
I have to do some thinking, and I have to start my Final Major Project - a prospect I was more excited about before I received this term's marks. It's hard work. And not the kind of hard work I like.
Kim, a fellow art student and a dear friend of mine, touched upon the subject in a vlog post recently. It's nice to know that I'm not alone.