You have to sit on small metal stools and lean over drawing desks. Apparently actual chairs might inhibit your creative movement. All it did for me is leave me sore on my ass bones.
Leaning over said small desks? Hurts your back. ALSO bad for creative movement when said movement needs to be chasing after a maniacal two year old when you get home from art school.
I am not the oldest person in the class nor the youngest. But the girl who sits next to me just graduated from high school, has black fingernails, hair that hasn’t seen a round brush EVER and ungodly amount of talent. I might have wanted to stab her with my charcoal pencil a little.
The teacher finds me amusing. This is probably because when he asked each of us why we were here and my answer was, “For the exquisite torture. But I heard that costs extra.” Now he talks to me all the time. Take that Talented Teen.
I kinda feel like a complete tool walking through the parking lot with my drawing and sketching pads under my arm and little tool kit. I kinda feel like I should also have a metal GEM lunchkit. I think that would totally make the look, no?
Yes, the character of pretentious, just moved back to the states from Europe, overly educated, annoying bitch is present in the class. As is euro-goddess with hair so gorgeous and perfect I might want to lick her a little bit. Also present? Older man who really should just admit he’s gay already.
It is frustrating and not yet fun. I don’t know if it will ever be fun. But at the end I will be able to say I did it. In the meantime, Leah thinks I am a g-ddamned artistic genius because she saw my try to sketch my iPod in the hopes I could actually attempt to draw a rectangle and circle in good form. She wants to know if she can hang it in her room.
I gave her a dollar.