Can't make up my mind...

I change my interest in art like I change my clothes; one day it will be line art and then splotch paintings, then in a few weeks it'll change to (god forbid) surrealist visions or Shakespearean sketch art of the victorian century. Pens to paints to pastels.

As of now I have a huge obsession with cultural art, particularly those associated with Scandanavian Folklore and Artistry with local history. Things to do with myths, prints, patterns and historical imagery create interesting geometric paintings. I have them strung all over the wall. My bedroom is a mess of geometric paintings and colorful line drawings.

Nothing wrong with a guilty art pleasure right?

Cam xx

So this is the stage I'm at...

“Nobody tells this to people who are beginners, I wish someone told me. All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years you make stuff, it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase, they quit. Most people I know who do interesting, creative work went through years of this. We know our work doesn’t have this special thing that we want it to have. We all go through this. And if you are just starting out or you are still in this phase, you gotta know its normal and the most important thing you can do is do a lot of work. Put yourself on a deadline so that every week you will finish one story. It is only by going through a volume of work that you will close that gap, and your work will be as good as your ambitions. And I took longer to figure out how to do this than anyone I’ve ever met. It’s gonna take awhile. It’s normal to take awhile. You’ve just gotta fight your way through.” 

― Ira Glass

Yes, I am definitely at this stage. I write. I backspace. I throw a piece of paper in anger that my sass isn't sassy enough or my humor isn't humorous enough. And now I spy this quote on a blog and know that... I have to keep going (oh what a cliched sentence that was. Please excuse me whilst I barf). Anyway, just a small update to say this: If you are starting something creative; a magazine, a business, a craft, hobby, sport, you will hit this stage where your passion seems to reach for the stars yet shows no fruit.

Do not panic. Everyone has this stage. Actors need to hunt for acting positions, artists paint and yet sell for a nickel. Even politicians begin by handing out flyers to passerbys who gruffly say "Hoo tha bloody 'ell is Labour?!"

It's that moment of breakthrough. So keep going.

Cam xx

Market Day // The Student Struggle

It's a real treat to be able to watch all the freshmen at my university attend Market Day for the first time; it kind of gives you a perspective of how we all used to treat education in our first years. For those reading who are unable to comprehend what market day is, I want to take you on a journey. Close your eyes. Wait, no don't do that. 

Just imagine 20,000 students clambering over eachother to signup for clubs and societies at stalls, and then imagine these 'stalls' (whom promote UQ being a united environment) secretly judging eachother for how many freshmen are piled around the table. As you struggle away through the vortex of first years dressed in their fancy, designer clothes to make a first day impression, you begin to wonder which demon on this earth created Market Day. And then you see it: some art club that promotes political awareness of the local authorities. An invisible magnet turns on and begins pulling you towards them, and you struggle to get away. Within minutes the students have jumped on this rare chance for socialisation and have given you buttons, flyers, CD podcasts and somehow invoked a political awareness of LBQT rights. You turn to run and find yourself carried through a small group of college students, all dressed in their official colours and chanting about some sort of 'fresher dance' (Holla out to my college girls from Duschesne. Always remember, fries before guys.)  After all this turning about, you spot your stall in the flurry of activity. As your eyes fall upon the signup sheet sitting like a prized trophy, some sort of animal-predator instinct has erupted from within. You start shoving aside to get to the stall, but watch with dismay as they put up a sign saying "FULL". With bitter defeat looming, you manage to beg to the student executives of the club for one last spot, and manage to successfully leave an impression as they take down your name. Congratulations, you've survived Market Day.

I may have used slight hyperboles with this story, but it was no joke about the 20,000 students. It's that crazy. 

Anyway, that's all for story time today. Hope you all enjoyed xx

From Cam