Posts Tagged ‘ compositions ’

Community and painting. (OR: God, I just want some bros.)

Today was painting’s final critique, which was one of those bittersweet things as is per the nature of a happy course’s end. At least, it is for me; most of my comrades in this course were art education students, which meant that I severely doubt my chances of encountering them again given the very real possibility that these people are only using this introductory painting course as a studio requirement. It was a bit of a bummer, after all; they all seemed like dudes I’d like to hang out with one day, drink a beer with, or whatever you do after hours at a commuter school. You know, all art commune-y.

Anyway, I didn’t voice this, as it felt superfluous — and besides, you never know what’s around the corner. But still, the melancholy was there, if only for the reminder that I haven’t met many painting majors in my present year. Until today, I was firmly of the belief that this was “any,” but a chance prattling in my professor’s office after evaluations made me discover that there was in fact one other soul in my class that was also going the way of painterly wonder, the likes of which made us gasp and cling like sad, strange orphans in the hallway. As she put it: “There’s hardly any of us!” and to be honest, it’s entirely thanks to Herron’s General Fine Arts program, but that’s another story for another time. Point being: painting majors are few and far between in our fair school, which is particularly sad given the beautiful facilities that our hall has. I certainly shouldn’t be quoted on this, but I think painting is the only major on campus with designated studio space for seniors? Not that you should get into our fancy schmancy place just for Da Goodz, but you’d think that’d seduce you a little bit maybehaps no?

Anyway, after having this moment of divine thank God, there are all of two of us here, we came across the conclusion that painting may or may not need a better community within that of Herron. (Surprise, am I right?!) Most of the art ed kids identify with at least one other department — you know, their “thing” that they specialize in other than teaching the kidlets. A guy I hung out with on the reg during painting was really into sculpture and would go on at length about how tight the community was in the sculpture and ceramics building, which is something that a ceramics senior impressed on us during some foundations course last year. Never mind that you can’t step ten feet without bumping into either a photo or vis comm major, although I am hardly the woman to ask about the how and why of that due to personal bias and legitimate mystification. Courtesy of Bookbinding, I’m more likely to bump into printmakers than I am painters. So what gives, painter friends? Are you into the DL or something? Color me confused.

But the thing that was so singularly heartening about the entire discussion was that Fellow Painting Major was too. The beginning of this semester was a lot of me hemming and hawing about whether I wanted to declare painting or printmaking, but I’m pretty sure that Turpenoid has crack in it or something because it’s not something I can necessarily see me feasibly giving up. I could very well veer into disgustingly poetic waxings on the state of How Much I Love This Medium, though, which is not what this is about — this is more about how, surely, others must feel that way in my school? And that, dear Lord, could we possibly cultivate this? For really, I think there’s something to be said about being with some like-minded people who give great feedback and help you grow. I think that’s something that really killed it for me with my last school, since nobody really did want to give more than a half of a shit about what you were doing and who you were.

Knowing that this lady felt the same thing? Pretty comforting. If anything, knowing that there’s two means we can maybe make this a community somehow once we get past this sophomore review nonsense, block by block. Or something. I’m starting to lose my train of thought.


I should let my brain vomit in class more often!

Occasionally, I like the Internet to remember that I make stuff, for whatever godawful reason (READ: that reason is vanity). Frequently, I run into the problem wherein I struggle to find anything that I am actually vain enough to pimp, but then I did this relatively neat drawing-based-on-a-drawing for my (WAIT FOR IT) Drawing III course! Admittedly, being given the permission to use whatever the hell I want was helpful — hell, the fact that I kind of went crazy today with the conte marks was really theraputic. I’m not even sure if this will be considered worthy of a dece grade in class or anything, but whatever I had fun making it, which usually ends up with my thinking that what I made is awesome.



I have no idea what to name it at all, other than "Abstract Doohickey." Wtf.

Detail II (out of order)!

See, this shit is just crazy. Like me, probably.


Detail I!

Maybe if I stare at the marks long enough, I'll get some titlespiration. Doodle?


Drawing Intelligently (OR: The Difference Between Good and Great)

I’ve been thinking lately — admittedly, a dangerous past time, but my desire to live on the edge is a tangential subject to the post at hand. Although it would be quaint to fully claim that all this rumination is purely due to this being the anniversary of my birth, the timing of this particular birthday has its significance. I haven’t reached any technical milestones (save for the 23 on the 23rd part, which I find cute), but this year will serve as the crossroads for my program at university, the likes of which I was reminded but a few days ago when catching up with a professor after class.

As back story: the whole of my Mondays and Wednesdays last week were spent in a rather atrocious bit of transportation limbo, which forced me to end up missing the whole of my sessions for that week. Fortunately, the professor was terribly understanding (and this after I had blown up in a mess of ugly stress somewhere else on the Internet), and so my meeting to catch up with the odds and ends of made-up assignments and the like was a little less apprehensive than it could have been. Still, I was colored by a bit of worry: the grades of my first two assignments, which the professor had returned but moments before. A B+ and a B respectively were certainly not bad, per se, but I’m no settler — and, well, it would be a lie to ignore the very fact that I had never received a B for a drawing project in my life until that point. With these thoughts in mind, I set to conferring and catching up. Continue reading