This Thing Called Art

I'm sure a lot of us can relate when I say it's hard to talk about yourself. Forget that, I mean talking GOOD about yourself. This inability to big yourself up has absolutely no boundaries, follows no criteria and really doesn't give a flying fuck where you are in your life.

So, when I struggle to believe in an idea, this doesn't seem alarming to me. Frustrating, yes, but I suppose having always experienced subjective feedback with my ideas, alarm bells don't ring. It's difficult as an art student to have to justify why the world needs your visions, why the universities need your courses and why the industries we aim to work in are damn valid industries to work in. I think people are very quick to forget that a lot of their happiness relies on the environment around them, an environment that is (mostly) artificially created according to an individual's taste. They seem to forget that, whilst they believe they've chosen those particular curtains to go against that particular wall is a decision entirely of their own, they've actually probably subconsciously got the idea from a magazine or a set on tele. We influence decisions and that's what we enjoy doing. We're givers, and you're takers - but you never say thank you. Instead, you slate the very institutes that encourage us, the very politicians who invest in us and the very ideas that we're proud of.

Although I recognise that I'm in fact no Alphonse Mucha, I'm very happy that I'm not. Art is fluid. In every form that you make contact with it, it won't be the same form as before. To compare yourself to the greats, is not understanding art at all.

And even though the people around me may not have seen it, I sort of gave up on myself this year. Through personal experiences and experiences involving the very people who are supposed to be encouraging me: something just gave in me that has never given before. And when I try to plan my life, to think that I actually have a chance in the field that I'm studying, I have to accept that the chances are extremely thin. It's this exact thinking that has landed me in the bubble that I'm now in. I don't mind having to constantly explain my plans for the future, my course or how I see the world 'needs' it, I don't even mind having to explain to my nan why I don't care if a piece of work is sellable or not, but what I do mind is when people don't appreciate how much you have to believe in an idea for it to exist.

It takes a lot of mental labouring to actually physically visualise what I see. Just now I can look over to my window sill and see nothing but a round mirror and the blind. I only see them because I see the cream circular border of the mirror against the, quite lovely, block colour of the blind and the mirror has a reflection of my, rather nicely, patterned wallpaper which creates another linear against my cream circular border. That's extremely satisfying to me. And the next step in my head, is how to make that vision satisfying for someone else. How to make someone else understand or appreciate that same ease that two lines and a circle has given me.

Artists in all disciplines are the most fearless and strong people I know...or would imagine knowing at least. They spend their lives trying to make our worlds prettier, more interesting, more intellectual, all while confronting the little voice of logic in their heads. The voice that says this won't pay the bills, that you won't find happiness, that no-one can see what you see or feel what you feel. But the lesson here is that to try and have fun trying is the ultimate goal.

I suppose I started this post (even though I'm not obliged to blog for my course anymore) to sort of say that actually, yes I have chosen art. Yes it may say 'Fashion Communication and Promotion' on my social media but you better believe that's an art and I better start believing in some ideas.