no good, very bad, horrible

god i was so excited this morning. i had everything all laid out, all my books and notebooks and papers and modelpieces. i turned in my r+j paper and signed the incomplete form for the other paper- i have until july 1st to do it. i went to set design and everyone was working on their projects, trying to finish. i was so proud i was finished i thought i'd turn in my costume renderings to frances. i went to her office, i got her to clear me for a class i needed, then i got out my renderings.

slash!

burn!

awful, awful critique. i told kendal i was going to hand them to her and say, "i've done the best i could, i can't work on them any more, give me whatever grade i deserve, if it's a c then i'll take it."
but of course i don't have that kind of guts. there is one that's ok. but they're not advanced costume design quality work, they wouldn't fit into my portfolio, this is not acceptable for a bfa canidate.
i asked for specifics. there was alot of your basic "more shading, fix this collar, fix these cuffs, i need to see shirt sleeves, what IS this trim?" there's one rendering i have to completely redo, reswatch, redesign, repaint, everything. fucking barbie bows. she tried to find me research to back up her point, but i trusted her- it doesn't even matter what's correct historically, all that matters is what she wants. she sketched for me, she did more explaining, she wouldn't let me free. and she ended telling me i have to take figure drawing if i want to be a bfa. i said i'd already chosen my electives, and it doesn't fit into my schedule, and she said very definately that i have to, if i want a bfa. i should take a community college course if neccessary. and i must keep a sketchbook this summer, i must draw at least one person a week and show her how i've progressed by this fall. i explained i don't wanna design, i just wanna stich. and she wants to know why i want a bfa. she thinks maybe i should change my program. finally she gave them back to me with instructions to work more on them and turn them in before grades are due next friday. i quickly fled.

i felt a little proud- i responded to her honestly, i didn't just meekly nod, and i didn't start crying until i left. there are little changing rooms with benches in the bathrooms, and i curled up on one of those and sobbed for a little bit. i ripped the rendering i have to do over into pieces. i washed my face and went back to the design rooms, and she's there, critiquing costume design classes renderings. well, i cannot sit back down in my chair at the other end of the design table and watch her critique someone else, so i stand in the back of the classroom with all of my classmates still furiously drafting. i try to chat, but i can't quite pull it off, and christopher's like, "are you ok?' and i say, um, well, no. and i start to tear up again, and he's like, "let's go have a cigarette." so we go out to the front of the buliding, and he pets me. niether of us smoke, but that's what the smokers say and do when they have problems. so i told him how it was with frances, and jessie (who does smoke) and grant came out, too. they distracted me, and chris brushed away my problems from my skirt and shoulders with his eraser brush he had carried out with us. i wiped my eyes and we went back in, to present our projects. i was so unhappy that i had to do it in front of frances, but luckily it was a set with a really cute model, and it was jackie grading me.

work was better, the scene shop barbeque, and bitching to michelle and pam, who were properly sympathetic. pam was aghast when she saw them- she thinks frances is crazy. she says she will help me with my drawing, if i want. i think pam would make a good drawing teacher, so i hope that works out. michelle says she's always asking for these things then doesn't care or follow up, so not to be too obsessed with the figure drawing thing, see if it works out or goes away. pam was shocked when i put together the pieces of the trashed rendering- she said she wouldn't have ripped it up. and tom says over his shoulder from his sewing machine, "yeah, but i totally understand the feeling." that made me feel really good, that he was on my side as a real adult- later he said to me, "you know, in the real world it's not like this. in the real world, if you can justify it, if you can explain it, you can do it." that was encouraging too.

still, i feel like roadkill.

g was supposed to come over for dinner, but she had something else to go to tonight. when i came home i just curled up in bed. she called and said she'd stop by for an hour if i wanted. so she came by. when she came in she laughed at me under my misquito netting and said, "if i wasn't afraid it would hurt your feelings, i'd call you a drama queen." it didn't work. it did hurt my feelings, i don't have nearly enough reason to be this sad. i'm just a lazyass sorry for my self chump masqurading as an artist- i almost started to cry again. but i sent her to the closet for an extra pillow so she could climb into my tent of self pity with me, and she gave me a little scrap of watercolor paper and said, "i painted this for you a bit ago, but i didn't know when to give it to you, and i think now is the right time." on the right is an ogre-y thing, with long hair, donkeyish ears, and a big nose, all curled up in a little ball hugging its knees and saying, it is sad today. on the left is a small girl with a furry accorn hairdo and a blue smock, holding her cupped hands out to the ogre, and in her hands is a little grey bird, and above the bird's head is a little red heart. the back says its to me from her, and "a songbird for a sad day." then i really did cry again.
tomorrow when there is natural light i will photograph it for you. i hope i can finish my roll soon.

i think i've had enough. i'm going to take a bath now.