PROCRASTINATION, MISTRESS OF CHAOS AND BOREDOM, WE MEET AGAIN……UUUGH
I dressed up as a minion from Despicable Me for class today. Still dressing up as grad student and nobody’s gonna stop me
Taking a privilege and oppression class in grad school really makes you examine and come face to face with the parts of yourself that you didn’t fully recognize before because they’re uncomfortably real
I haven’t been on in a very long while, and while it’s been due to graduate school and other life commitments, it also seems like I am neglectful of exploring my artistic, open self. There have been so many issues and theories and concepts and this, that and the other thing discussed in classes that I feel like a funnel for information rather than a flesh and blood human.
My artwork has been sparse, and that’s a fault on my part. But my artistic drive to create has such a little impact in regards to the towering masses of homework/assigments and household duties…..I miss it.
The other day I sat down in front of a wall in my room, plugged myself into my music and began to paint. It was numbing, in a good way. After a good hour and a half I stepped back to see this beautiful, yet surreal landscape that is normally nothing like my usual artistic repertoire and I felt oddly at ease. That feeling of looking at something birthed from your own subconscious artistic drive was the thing that I’d been lacking for so long, and yet after sitting with it for a few minutes, I got up, washed up, and began to read a textbook from class.
Now this doesn’t seem right does it?? From my artistic perspective, I should be spending much more time with my work, creating more, taking the initiative to create to keep myself mentally and emotionally healthy and yet here I am, working 15 hours a week, going to class 9 hours a week, and doing homework while, I’m not eating or sleeping, all the while commuting back and forth with little down time to sit quietly and allow myself to nurture this part of myself.
Maybe it’s the isolation from newly made acquaintances, or the futile attempts to reconnect with old college pals. Either way, the spark, the surge of energy I get from being around others is so weak, that it translates to my desire to create. I could find a studio where I live but there are very few around that will let you work for free, because let’s face it, grad school ain’t cheap.
And thus, my rise from inconstant blogging to weekly commitments to provide you all, and myself, with the insights of a graduate art therapy student. Bear with me, it’ll be a bumpy ride.