3.24.2006

I am typing to you from a mansion!

Well, I moved, doubly. I cleaned out my studio and also moved from my charming tiny house in East Ghetto to my friend’s beautiful, spacious family home right on a square downtown. Living on a square is, like, unheard of. It is Super Fancy.

And the girl I live with is a good friend from the painting program. I can tell already that she’s a great roommate (will I jinx things by saying this?). We have very similar living styles in terms of cleanliness and noise and sharing. Plus she owns a Pomeranian. I am not into small dogs as a rule, but he is fluffy and doesn’t have an annoying bark. Therefore I love him.

And last weekend my two closest friends from DC flew down to share in the debauchery that was St Patrick’s Day/Weekend. It was great to see them and they’d never been to Savannah (or anywhere in the Deep South) before, so I got to play tour guide and walk them all over and show them the nicest things. We ate and drank our way through town and now I am trying to hold myself to salads for a week or so, or until I stop looking pregnant. Whichever comes first. Because you know, bathing suit season is just about here.

School-wise, I decided to switch to the undergrad program, then met with Admissions and learned that they’re pretty much going to go out of their way to make my life hard. They want me to do a whole complete application, including recommendation letters and an essay! I sent off a stroppy email asking them to reconsider. The jury is still out.

(Because I mean, come ON. I got into the grad program; I have to chase down the same people to write that they also support me for a lower program? Dumb.)

I am off now to visit my dad and stepmom for the weekend, but coming soon: photos of my new lovely living space! Have a great weekend.

supine @ 10.16 am |

3.14.2006

Hmm, yes

Well, I had a weekend of sloth and food and serious pondering. On Thursday, when I got the news, I was pretty much shocked and shattered. A good friend kept me company all afternoon. We hung out in the park, swinging and walking and sitting on benches, and I basically talked and talked and cried and just worked out all my thoughts. She was so awesome and just had the best advice and was really helping me see it from a good perspective.

Then yesterday and today were my last two days of classes, and I am pretty much fine with everything now. Plus I have a plan. Here is what I have come up with:

– In my meeting, the department head told me that I was “a hard worker and smart,” but that I just “came to grad school too early.” Meaning, I basically had had no drawing/color theory classes in my undergrad, so I was just struggling with really basic elements of drawing and painting now.

– He said that another girl failed her review last year who had had a similarly scattered background, and she decided to just take the undergrad courses she’d never taken the first time, and earn a BFA instead of an MFA. He suggested this for me.

– My immediate reaction to this was “Um, I don’t think so.”

– However, since then I have been reconsidering. The thing is, within my program, it’s totally acknowledged that the undergrad painting program is really rigorous and that the students end up being really good painters, whereas the majority of us upstairs (colloquial term for the grad students), who did not go to this school for undergrad, are strong on concept and weak on actual painting skills.

– Now, since I will be doing all drawing and design for the next few quarters and then painting, I would actually be benefitting from the “stronger” part of the painting program (the undergrad part).

– So I will end up with stronger actual painting skills than I would have if I’d passed this review and ended up just choking my way through the MFA program with my self-taught ways.

– At that point, when I finish the BFA (which will take no longer that I’d been planning to devote to getting the MFA), I can take my mad formal skillz and, if I still want to attend grad school, go to a more conceptual, cutting-edge program somewhere else. Somewhere where I will be appreciated for my “formally economical” work! (Screw you, professor who used that term as a pejorative. I think it rocks.)

– Finally, as far as getting booted from grad school (and damn, that sounds so hardcore, it’s like I have some kind of street cred), I have looked at the work on the walls of our graduate area. There is a definite range of ability and technique going on upstairs; it’s not all outstanding. And I honestly will never buy their argument that my work was so far below some others’ work that I shouldn’t have continued on in the program. I will believe that forever. However, at this point it’s like an “ends justifying the means” thing. No, I don’t think I deserved to get cut. But now I’ll be in the program that is more suited to my needs and abilities, so it ends up okay.

– I did have to clean out my studio, though. That was hard. Nine months’ worth of paintings, sketches, and supplies create quite a mess.

Thanks to all you who commented with support for me and anger for the situation. I am really totally fine now. Onward and upward! Have a great afternoon, pals.

supine @ 1.48 pm |

3.10.2006

Demotion

We both failed, I and that other girl. I now have to clean out my studio over spring break and I have the option of returning to school as an undergraduate, to get my BFA. The crazy thing is, I’m seriously considering it.

Details to follow, off to go have beers now. Am self-medicating.

supine @ 6.04 pm |

3.9.2006

Firing Squad at 2pm

We are supposed to hear the results of our reviews tomorrow. Last time, someone just went into my studio and left the rejection letter, rubber-banded to my slides, sitting on a table to greet me when I arrived that day. This time I assumed was the same - that we’d hear tomorrow, five business days after they actually took place. (You need five days to type up a pagefull of insults, you know.)

But late last night, I got an email from the head of the department, saying he “needed to see me briefly tomorrow in his office.” Very cryptic. I am terrified. I keep racking my brain to think of any other reason he would need to see me today specifically (let alone at all), but I just can’t imagine that this is anything other than “you failed, and since this was the second and last chance, I deliver the news face-to-face, as a courtesy.”

So I have had a knot in my stomach since last night. Then this morning I had class with another grad student who also failed her first review and I told her about the email. She was freaked. During break she ran to check her email and it turned out she had received the same one. I was like, “Well, I don’t know if that makes me feel more hopeful or not. In any case, I feel less alone. Is that a terrible thing to say?”

The thing is, she’s been in the department a few quarters longer than me, and generally everyone was surprised when she failed the review the first time, so I have a hard time believing she actually failed it again. Which means, maybe I didn’t fail it either? It’s a tiny sliver of hope.

I am going to see the department head at 2pm, and I have instructions to text her and let her know if that’s the news or not. She asked me to do that, so that she could steel herself and not cry in his presence. I was like, “Oh, I’ll cry in front on him! He should feel bad!” I am a spiteful girl.

Anyway, keep your fingers crossed for me. I think I’ll be drinking heavily after the meeting, regardless of the outcome.

supine @ 12.06 pm |

3.1.2006

Hands off my giant purse!

The other day I woke up and got in my car and started driving down the street. Only the car was sluggish. Granted, it was 9am and sort of cold out, but that was no excuse. The car was unusually sluggish. With a foreboding feeling, I pulled over quickly, opened the door, and looked down at the tires. Ah, yes. The back tire was completely flat. Pancake-esque. This is something you do NOT need at 9am.

So I ended up leaving my car there and running to class. All through critique, I stressed over how I would get my car fixed. Inexplicably, there is a tire place mere blocks from my house, but could I drive the car there? Would it have to get towed? That was going to involve mad cash, right? Shit.

After class I went to the tire place. Because this is a small city (I guess), they got a mechanic to drive me to my car and put the spare on so that I could drive it to the shop. He took one look at the tire and told me someone had slashed it. What?! Apparently there has been a rash of random tire slashings in the neighborhood lately, so “I shouldn’t worry that someone hates me.” Well, that’s comforting. Assholes!

Once I drove the car back to the shop, I gave the cashier my keys and walked the ten minutes home.

It was only when I got to my front stoop that I realized that I had given the cashier ALL my keys. Including my house key. So there was no way of getting in. I was dejected. This was one sucky day.

Since I am a big baby, I called my roommate-to-be and told her my sob story, and she kindly offered to come and drive me to the tire place to get my house key. I am not too proud to admit that I took her up on her offer.

Anyway, long story short, I got my car back, two hours and $70 later. But who slashed my tire??? Now I live in fear each morning that it’ll just happen again. I mean, who does that to somebody they’ve never met? Two hours out of my life and $70 I DON’T HAVE, just because somebody had to be a dick.

It only confirms that I’ve made the right decision about moving to that nicer neighborhood.

supine @ 12.20 am |
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