Hard to believe this school year is winding down. Wow- almost finished with my first year of MFA. Whew! Unfortunately I'm not there yet which means I'm in the high stress zone for the next two and a half weeks.
This week has been a tough one. Long days, late nights, early mornings. We are having open studios this week. At eight thirty we congregate in the hallway and on break (not really...usually when Dave says, "Poof!") we all head in different directions to four other students' studios. Within an hour each of the four will have other grads and faculty walk in and out while we talk about the work. It's not meant to be stressful but it certainly becomes so. It's not enough time to really spend one on one with anybody and you end up having to repeat your whole speech a couple times. The whole thing feels very uncomfortable to me and since I don't know what I'm doing or why I'm doing it half the time, it's difficult to defend or discuss it. Process?? I think that's it??! It would be nice to have the whole day for anyone to come in whenever they wanted that way you aren't prepared for a speech and you can continue to work. While I'm working, I'm constantly thinking. So whatever I said this morning becomes totally different by the end of the day.
My feedback always feels to me like no one knows what my purpose for doing what I'm doing is or what I'm trying to say. And honestly, I never can seem to narrow that down until something just clicks for me or I write and write and write about it. It does get a little awkward after I've talked and there is silence. I've learned that silence is not usually a good thing. Not getting a response right away puts me on edge because I know I haven't delivered well.
I've had to drive to Anderson for supplies multiple times already this week. You wouldn't believe how hard it was to find a good sewing machine under a hundred bucks. I'm tight on money so that's also stressing me out. This morning my laptop battery died for good (of course, right before open studio) so I had to go get the one Chris has so I could write a paper- the one I'm working on right now, interrupted by a blog break of course. Then, after visiting two thrift stores, I went to the hospital in search of baby blankets. You know the ones they give out that are white with the little pink and blue stripes? After buzzing my way in the locked entrance, busting through a vaulted door, and getting inspected with a laser and FBI agent who got my fingerprints, I finally made it to labor and delivery. I rang a door bell and ended up in the room with the little babies. The woman in there must have thought I was some kind of threat because she kept looking at me wide-eyed and every move I made she did the same, matching me every leg shift. Needless to say I did not get the blankets. Or a baby.
When I've reached my limit and I need to cry, I go somewhere and do a bad thing. That bad thing is getting in line at the nearest drive-thru. Something about fast food makes me feel a little better. I think it's the grease. I sped into Chick Filet on two wheels, desperately in need of some Christian chicken and a sweet tea. Short on money, I got the largest nugget count kids meal they had (six). When I got to the window it was the girl's pleasure to hand me my food and inform me that the lady in front of me paid for my meal and told me to have a blessed day.
Of course I cried. After feeling negative and rotten for three days, I've lost perspective. I had forgotten that someone was looking out for me and I needed a swift kick of grace to recognize that. And things got even better once I got an email saying that my campus parking ticket got changed to a warning.
