Wednesday, September 30, 2009

9/30/09:: Review

Today was my end-of-the-year review for last year's design work. Typically this review occurs at the end of the school year, and it determines whether or not your work is good enough for you to move on to the next level. You are graded on a system of 1- 4 in different categories, 4 being the best and 1 being the worst. 

 I stayed up most of last night preparing for it-- not to mention all of the work I did over the weekend and summer to get ready. Then, today, Doug (the head of the design department and my senior studio professor) sat down in front of all my work, casually flipped through it, "yeah" and "uh huh"ed all my discussion, and then just let loose.

He told me that I have no sense of typography. He told me I'm using a design vocabulary in my work that speaks of 2003, and that I am riding a dead trend with my ideas. And when I told him of having ambitions for London, he told me that if I don't start working 10x harder, it pretty much will never happen. He gave me a large helping of 2's and a few 1's.

I'm so filled with anger that I could scream. Why does everyone have to be a god damn Stephen Sagmeister in this field??? I've worked so hard at trying to reassemble some form of care for this profession/path I'm moving down, and every time I get close to getting my foot on it, I get a swift kick in the ass back to the land of I Don't Give A Fuck. How am I supposed to work harder when I am already staying up all night, every single night... with the flu, chainsmoking away my panic attacks...  ???

I will be the first to admit that I didn't do very much work in Scotland. In fact, I did pretty much nothing beyond the first identity system I did for Ecommo. Fine. But I did make a large earnest effort to fix that with supplementary projects that I did entirely on my own over the summer and into the beginning of this year.  Sure, they weren't stark-raving genius, but I thought they were certainly worth talking about. Instead, the only mention Doug made of them was to tell me that my book project was going to do absolutely nothing for my portfolio, and that I am in no shape to compete with people in London for jobs because they are the best.   ...And I'm dirt?

What if I don't want to be a fucking trend-tastic design star?  What if I just want a strong enough portfolio to get a job at a reasonable design firm in the city of my choosing? I don't care about being in design annuals. I don't care about being famous or having big name clients or hosting lecture series or being top creative director.

And regardless of what was said today, I know that I started off this year packing serious heat. I came back to CCS with a fire under my ass to make myself known again in the design department, amongst faculty and students. And instead, I've been trampled upon by the person whose respect I was trying to earn, my work isn't hung in the hallway along with everyone else's, and I'm tired/annoyed as fuck.

I just want to forget the whole thing and drop out. Screw it. I just need to find a man to pay off my loans and pump me full of babies. 

Saturday, September 26, 2009

9/26/09:: The Bullet Enters Brain

O cruel, needless misunderstanding!
O stubborn, self-willed exile from the loving breast!
Two gin-scented tears trickled down the sides of his nose.
But it was all right, everything was all right, the struggle was finished. 
He had won the victory over himself.
He loved Big Brother.

9/26/09:: If you lived here, you'd be home now.

Brought to my attention by Carianoff.
This week's Time Magazine cover.

9/26/09:: Oh, I'm getting one of these.

"Almost as much freedom as a birthday suit!!  Like a birthday suit, it stretches, twists, bends, and is wrinkle-resistant."

We really were doing it right in the 70s.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

9/24/09:: Barely Survived

Satanic/crazed laugh necessary.

Here is the scoop.  This project was assigned two weeks ago.  We had to document every detail of our lives every day for 1 week and then create poster that expresses the data in an interesting and clear way.  I concocted this ridiculous idea of expressing quantities of activity through mass/volume, and thus began a series of some 4 or 5 all-nighters to create this piece of work--- against the recommendation of both my professor and peers via the first critique.

In the end, I turned out to be right, and I think it turned into a great piece.  The stress was monumental though, and it resulted in the apartment getting absolutely trashed and both Josh and I developing some sort of flu.  Yussss!
Josh was really helpful with a lot of things-- including my spout with the judgmental lumberjacks running the woodshop.  (Pricks!)

So, now my next great act will be completing an entire two-tier book + my hair salon identity on top of all my other homework (philosophy essay, film studies essay, 8 info design layouts, a book mock-up, sample spreads, research on the michigan light rail) by the end of this weekend.  Hold your applause until the end please.

Saturday, September 19, 2009

9/20/9:: Re-Entry

Kelly takes on Tampa + 17 hours on the road = photographic gems?


Just kidding.  It's more like, I will wear his clothes and eat all our food and get nothing done because he is not here to scold me into doing my homework.  Thus, productivity is low at the moment, and I am listening to Les Miserables on full volume because I can (which is either making me more in tune with my inner-revolution or it's turning me into a nutcase).

But really, to the good stuff:

While being back in Detroit has indeed been like finally birthing the child that I've been carrying around for 9 months, part of the satisfaction of it is lost to the fact that, well, it's pretty much the same as it was when I left.  Bummer.  

I play a lot of Guitar Hero.  I'm working on a 3D poster and am plotting ways to get back overseas before next August.  I bought a Remington typewriter today on Ebay.  I wear glasses when I read (finally starting to go blind).  And I'm practicing for married life by trying to shave my legs at least once a week.  My future-husband will appreciate this.  

I've been listening to a lot of Metric, Patrick Wolf, and Arcade Fire.  I also have yet to post Josh and I's pictures from our roadtrip up from Tampa.  That is mostly because they are terrible close-up shots of each other driving/leaning on the hood of the car at rest stops.  We suck.

My first critique since being back went terribly, despite my excitement for the project.  I almost went into tears, as I was running on no sleep and was no longer used to the American art school abuse.  I've gotta callous up.  Turn my creativity back to yellow dead skin.  Yes.  That's phase two of Kelly's Re-entry into American Life.  Hope I don't burn up.  Wish me luck.
I'm temporarily disbanding from the realm of sexual pleasure and emotional involvement.  Although I can live without one or the other, I've never before attempted to subtract both from the equation.  It might turn me into a schoolwork sci-borg, but that's precisely the plan.  Watch me as I master the illusion of passion for my career.  Clap at the end.  It's gonna be a good show.

This is what's been going on.