i'm sitting in the printmaking room and i'm holding a sepia print in my hands. i am holding it inches from my face, all the better to see the texture of the ink sitting on the paper. i am so relieved and excited at the same time. this is the second time i've been to the laser cutter. they etch the image onto acrylic for me, and i ink the plate up just as i would copper. i run it through the press and flip the felt covers up, peel the paper off to see what turns out.
the last time i went to the laser cutter, the image was blurry and awful. it was uninspired to begin with, so imagine the double disappointment. but this time i think i'm onto something. it's an image of lines and lines that look like they are some kind of map. the lines are made up of tiny little dots, as if we're still in the age of ms paint. i stole it off the internet somewhere, and i'm putting it to work. it's not mine because i didn't make it, and now i'm wondering how to make it mine.
it looks good like this, just a sepia toned image on white paper. but i'm sure i could put it to work, and make something that looks like me. i don't know what it is yet, but i'm going to find out.
i'm not going to london. i took this weekend to brood over things and on the bus ride to boston, it became clear that i should stay. i read
what everyone had to say on the matter and knew that this would be the path of least regrets. i think i also learned a couple of other things along the way. things like how all this while, when i said that i didn't intend to become an artist in future, it wasn't just because i was interested in other things, like opening a café or organising events or bringing people together. it was also because deep down inside i'm just afraid that it'd never work out.
i just never admitted to myself that that was the case. i latched on to the prettier explanations - which, after all, were true too - because it was easier to think that it was a choice i would make because i really wanted to, rather than out of any sense of fear that the alternative would just lead to a harder life. it's true, though, and now i know it clearly. i'm afraid of pursuing a career as a full-fledged artist because i don't want to be struggling to sell my work or anything like that. i make it because i like doing it and i don't really want to have to give a shit as to whether other people will like it.
if i become a real artist, i'll have to do that. and i'll probably not be able to afford the kind of house and lifestyle that i want. well... i don't know for sure yet. i guess we'll see what happens. but anyway, i've realised this now. and it's interesting how it's been hidden from me until now. it's so easy not to have to think about the future when you've got a job waiting for you when you get home.
anyway. now that i'm not going to london i'm wondering if i should not come home for winter at all, and take the time to travel around america. there is this sense that time is slowly running out, and i need to do the things i've been meaning to. friends, if you're reading this and you're studying in london/america: will you be staying in school for the winter break? let me know, we could make plans...
