The end of the class, as most classes are, feels bittersweet. In part, I feel a lack of closure — with my own project(s) in a state of relative incompletion. But I also feel a sense of immense possibility.
I wish I had put more work into this class, but I also wish I had put in less. I spent a lot of this class ruminating over how to make art and how to write instead of simply making art and writing. That has been my biggest lesson — this "Barrier" I've been panicking about since week one is the panic itself. Fuck the panic.
I don't talk about these things a lot— and in the beginning I didn't want to, because I really wanted everyone in the class to like me. I undulated between desperately wanting to share and desperately wanting to hide everthing.
It has been, at times, very uncomfortable to be in this class. At others, it has been liberating. I often exited out of Zoom and felt I was in a state of creative frenzy.
The people in this class are geniuses, all of them. I believe that, truly.
For my final act — as this is the last thing I'm adding to this version of my portfolio — what I (apparently) do best:
A is for Finding a body that fits. If I had to pick someone with a style more different from mine, I'd probably pick you. And so your work (and, by extension, your mind) blows me away every time I engage with it (and, by extension, you). Thanks for reminding me that finding bodies isn't always easy.
B is for Breakfast. Angelina, you're a digital art god and I'd eat the colors you use in each poster for breakfast. You reminded me to be more passionate about things.
C is for Clarice. Am I too scared to ask if you wanna be friends? Yeah. Other than that, I repeat the first thing I said about you in the chat:
"Okay so Clarice is a genius."
D is for Daniela. For:
Reminding me that I'm never really stuck.
Reminding me that my work is worth something.
Having a teacher with a perspective external to the US made me feel seen and heard.
Making two hour meetings at midnight worth it.
Telling me I was brave.
Taking the time with my work that I know you did.
Writing in the margins.
The promise of guidance on future projects.
Belief.
E is for Email. Angela, thank you for your email, I'm sorry I never replied. Emails make me panic. I'm in awe of you, if that wasn't clear. Text me any time.
F is for Fears and felines. Thank you for making me take more careful note of my fears and dreams. I have a fear of collarbones. I have dreams of losing my skin, sometimes just my ear. Ur so cool and so are your cats.
G is for George, or whatever people at parties call Keao.
H is for Happy Birthday. Thanks for access to the Google doc, as well as your Snapchat. Glad to have wished you Happy Birthday.
I is for Illumination. Asha, the way you use light in your drawings — in a way that is suggested but not shouted — has always moved me. Thank you for reminding me about nuance and subtlety.
J is for Jesus Christ, Angela made a whole video game.
K is for Khaos.
L is for Let's Scream. Getting to contribute to your project, despite my procrastinating tendencies, makes me glow a little.
M is for Meaning something. Nan, thank you for the window. Thank you for providing insight, showing everyone that our work meant something to you. Thank you for showing us your work, which meant a lot to me.