One of the most terrifying aspect of pursuing a master’s degree is the concept of the trust an entire collection of strangers is placing in the student’s alleged ability to produce quality work. And maybe it’s inevitable that no matter how far I advance in art, I’ll always feel somehow inadequate; needless to say, even though I’m to begin grad school in the fall, I still feel like I could probably have drawn this or that better with my foot.
The runner-up for most intimidating aspect of grad school, of course, is the overwhelming notion that my only direction when I begin is “Go.” As though every trail of ink I leave behind me is somehow uniquely perfect, and every idea I have is solid gold. If only art were that easy. Instead I’ve spent my entire summer so far racking my brain for themes, techniques, projects. My instinct is to continue on in something I know, but there’s no place for safety in the pursuit of brilliance.
I’ve been writing and doodling and photographing and painting in the hopes of stumbling upon some sort of solid foundation from which to begin, but at the end of the day, my mind still feels a bit like this:
And after awhile, I start to scribble mushrooms again, my ever-familiar go-to of late…
…And after doing that awhile, my brain typically stops interpreting tangible objects and starts regressing back to my pre-collegiate standard of explosive shapes.
I’m moving backwards. Maybe that’s part of moving full-circle, but it’s endlessly frustrating right now. If this is a normal feeling, if every beginning grad student feels like this, please tell me. Any droplets of wisdom from those more experienced than I will be forever appreciated.