a rough thursday

tender mercy...

Yesterday I got to school, studied french for 3 hours, went to french class, studied french for 3 more hours, went to my studio seminar class and thought I was ready to take the test. I had done every single flashcard on the book's website and had a new box of junior mints in my pocket. I was ready. I go to the testing center and put those little headphones on that really don't do anything, since my test doesn't make any noise for me to listen to, but I feel better having them on.

The first couple question were a piece of cake. Pieces of furniture: un lit, un placard, etc. But the rest of the test was a DISASTER. I didn't even understand the directions when it handed me a map of Paris, so the directions I wrote probably got Margarite even more lost then she already was. I got off the computer feeling completely stupid, who can study for 6 hours and still not understand the same information on the test? To make things worse, I didn't have a phone to call for a ride and was stuck on campus, by this point it was dark outside, and I couldn't stop crying.

I vaguely remembered seeing a phone in the WLK that I could probably use, but didn't want to deal with it. As I was walking across campus I prayed that I would find a phone and not have to search for one with my bloodshot eyes. Right then I passed by the HFAC and saw a whole group of people. I remembered that it was Rachel Van Wagoner's MFA show opening because I got a flier for it the week before. I actually really wanted to see the show, so I went to the 303 gallery and my mood improved by reading about her little space creatures and listening to the techno space music. I just finished a ceramics class and I was blown away by the glazes she used and little details she'd carved in them.

When I walked out of the gallery I automatically found friends and was able to borrow a phone and call home for a ride. That was my tender mercy and answer to my silly prayer. It was so much better than walking through the WLK (which I usually avoid at all costs). And being surrounded by incredible art reminded me that I don't need to learn french or write amazing research papers about Raphael or Paul Klee, because that isn't my talent. I'm studying how to improve my art. Making art is what I'm good at, what I'm interested in and what I should focus my time on. All the other classes are just for experience and have no right to make me, an artist, feel like I'm stupid.