It is with a heavy heart and a sore head that I approach the last day that our degree show is running.
Paying adequately for the night before, the final celebration, I sit here in the air conned computer room and reflect on the last three years.
It is bizzarre how a time period can seem so long but also so short. Annoyingly, I find myself only very recently getting truely excited about Art. I once again feel like I did at school when I would spend days at a time working on something, not because I had too, but because I wanted too.
The last three years have seen high points, and some low point. The constant battle against my own neurosises and ego, the realisations and challenges. I joked with my tutor the other day that 'when' I recieve that third (gulp) I will be breaking the noose out. He replied snappily that this was obsurd, and that if people enjoy my work it means more than any fucking instutional thumbs up in the forms of grading.
This is true, the comments and phrase mean more to me than any grade. And having just finished reading my first review on this site, I am continueing to allow a feeling of elation to overcome me, or maybe thats the dehydration talking. But yeah, I am going to sign on soon, and take that shoddy first step into reality. But for the moment, I'm just going to nurse this sore mind that feels like its been covered in soggy bread.
