Last night I finished my design class. It was wonderfully bittersweet. I took it as a way to get my creative mojo going again. I presented my self-portrait, and here's the jist of what I said when I was presenting. I simply talked about how this class has truly been a journey for me. As a film major at the near end of her college days, it's tough to come to a class of almost exclusively graphic designers and be like, "Oh yeah, I got this." It's been experiment after experiment of assignments and challenges, paired with taking smaller and larger risks and just loving it. I felt so validated through the triumphs and the flops, and everything in between. Participating alone was so amazing, and seeing what others came up with from the exact same set of instructions. Some took it in a completely different direction and the outcome was wonderful to be part of.
This self-portrait also became a realization of how much I messed up on the painting, but I was finally able to embrace the imperfections in the painting and in myself. I actually learned to love my work over the semester even if I felt like other works were superior. I was able to tackle a medium I had never dealt with before, but being brave enough to try was huge for me, and having a lot of help along the way. For me, it's a picture of what I could be, a little more rock and roll, and little less vanilla, and possibility that the future always holds for each of us.
Here's to waking up smiling,