In The End, You Just Have to Jump
I wasn't going to write about this, but I thought it would be good--in the interest of talking further on hope, doubt, fear, trying on ideas, and doing it anyway. All things that I think about constantly and think are universal.
This weekend I attended an open house for the School of Visual Arts for the graduate program in Illustration. I went in light heartedly--thinking I was just going to check things out. I went in with an open heart just thinking, I'd try a shot at reality, instead of fantastical thinking. As I sat there in the classroom, listening to the warm ramblings of the head of the school, the room packed with other arty hopefuls, I began having alternating chills of hope and self loathing. I loved the description of the program. They have a mandatory creative writing class as part of their curriculum! They believe in the art of story telling! They don't want anybody who knows exactly where they are going! They like people who have been working on their own and now want a community! My heart bloomed like Annie singing in the halls of Daddy Warbucks' mansion: I think I am gonna like it here...!
Then, I looked around. All around us on the walls was the recent published work of SVA students. There were pages from the New Yorker and the New York Times. Polished illustrations, clean and vibrant and interesting. Way beyond the scope of what I felt I could do. I heard terms like, "We get 100 applicants and only take 20." and "We once got this guy who applied and he was SO BAD." If I applied, I had an 80% chance of not getting in AND I might become an amusing tale to be told at prospective student events. "We got this application once--hoo! Boy, was she LOUSY. I mean, I think she used WHITEOUT on some of her drawings!"
Then it was question and answer time. Why is it in a handful of people--no matter where you go--there is always THAT GUY who has his own agenda, but decided to pose it as a question. He was angry about something, though I am unclear what. In a loud, pushy voice he began asking what sort of GUARANTEE they could offer him to be able to weather the massive changes that always occur in media. When Marshall (the head guy, who was giving the presentation) began to answer, saying that there are always changes, the young man interrupted him and said, "Yeah, but there have been MASSIVE changes in the last ten years. What do you have to say about that? How do you prepare your students?" Marshall began telling about how there are always changes--both in personal vision and commercial vision. He pointed at a students' work, fresh from the pages of New York Magazine, and said how the student at first had been inspired to do computer coloring, but now even he was getting bored by it. The guy who asked the question nodded animatedly and said, "Yeah, it IS boring!" Finally Marshall just stopped and said, "Look, the bottom line is, it's always an act of faith. We're asking you to go on a leap of faith. We are here to teach how to tell a good story with your art and to go out in the world with that. We have found that there is ALWAYS a place for that in ANY medium--be it film, theater, books, newspapers, whatever. But in the end, it's an act of faith."
I spent all day yesterday freaking out about applying there. The dragon at the gate was HUGE in my mind. It was shouting things at me like, "Who do you think you are? You are NAIVE and bad and you use WHITEOUT!" Today I remember what Marshall said about that act of faith and I am reminded that to do ANYTHING that matters to you takes an act of faith--whether you are conscious of it or not. You can add up the statistics, do the math, apply logic, do cartwheels, but in the end you just have to leap.
So I am leaping. There's nothing to prepare for, because what will happen, will happen with or without me. Whatever I learn from it, will come.
This weekend I attended an open house for the School of Visual Arts for the graduate program in Illustration. I went in light heartedly--thinking I was just going to check things out. I went in with an open heart just thinking, I'd try a shot at reality, instead of fantastical thinking. As I sat there in the classroom, listening to the warm ramblings of the head of the school, the room packed with other arty hopefuls, I began having alternating chills of hope and self loathing. I loved the description of the program. They have a mandatory creative writing class as part of their curriculum! They believe in the art of story telling! They don't want anybody who knows exactly where they are going! They like people who have been working on their own and now want a community! My heart bloomed like Annie singing in the halls of Daddy Warbucks' mansion: I think I am gonna like it here...!
Then, I looked around. All around us on the walls was the recent published work of SVA students. There were pages from the New Yorker and the New York Times. Polished illustrations, clean and vibrant and interesting. Way beyond the scope of what I felt I could do. I heard terms like, "We get 100 applicants and only take 20." and "We once got this guy who applied and he was SO BAD." If I applied, I had an 80% chance of not getting in AND I might become an amusing tale to be told at prospective student events. "We got this application once--hoo! Boy, was she LOUSY. I mean, I think she used WHITEOUT on some of her drawings!"
Then it was question and answer time. Why is it in a handful of people--no matter where you go--there is always THAT GUY who has his own agenda, but decided to pose it as a question. He was angry about something, though I am unclear what. In a loud, pushy voice he began asking what sort of GUARANTEE they could offer him to be able to weather the massive changes that always occur in media. When Marshall (the head guy, who was giving the presentation) began to answer, saying that there are always changes, the young man interrupted him and said, "Yeah, but there have been MASSIVE changes in the last ten years. What do you have to say about that? How do you prepare your students?" Marshall began telling about how there are always changes--both in personal vision and commercial vision. He pointed at a students' work, fresh from the pages of New York Magazine, and said how the student at first had been inspired to do computer coloring, but now even he was getting bored by it. The guy who asked the question nodded animatedly and said, "Yeah, it IS boring!" Finally Marshall just stopped and said, "Look, the bottom line is, it's always an act of faith. We're asking you to go on a leap of faith. We are here to teach how to tell a good story with your art and to go out in the world with that. We have found that there is ALWAYS a place for that in ANY medium--be it film, theater, books, newspapers, whatever. But in the end, it's an act of faith."
I spent all day yesterday freaking out about applying there. The dragon at the gate was HUGE in my mind. It was shouting things at me like, "Who do you think you are? You are NAIVE and bad and you use WHITEOUT!" Today I remember what Marshall said about that act of faith and I am reminded that to do ANYTHING that matters to you takes an act of faith--whether you are conscious of it or not. You can add up the statistics, do the math, apply logic, do cartwheels, but in the end you just have to leap.
So I am leaping. There's nothing to prepare for, because what will happen, will happen with or without me. Whatever I learn from it, will come.
posted by Summer Pierre at
1:22 PM
5 Comments:
LEAP LEAP LEAP!
Good on you Summer!
There is that old and slightly corny quote, about- shoot for the stars, if you miss, you may just land on a light-post..
Sometimes, we don't end up where we thought/hoped we would..
But sometimes, just in the aiming, the hoping, the trying, we find out way somewhere else-
Often it seems, somewhere even better.
SO,goodluck, and good on you for giving the bird to the dragons at your gate!
ACTION is good. It sounds like you went there on a whim but I am sure on a deeper level you knew that this could get you excited! What is the worst that could happen? That you don't get into the 20%. But at least you will have tried and that alone is worth it because it's another pebble turned on this rocky road. And if you do get in then I have NO DOUBT that you'll do brilliantly; apart from your musical and visual talents you are a GIFTED writer. Good luck with the application, I'll keep my fingers crossed for you :)
Kerstin
Leap away!
A great and funny post.
Fears of becoming the admissions office anecdote are crippling and unhelpful, as you no doubt know. Besides, unless you're planning to a) not be admitted and b) continue to attend all future open houses, how will you ever know that your whited-out drawings became the source of some blandly self-important school rep's stories. You won't. So banish the self-punishing thoughts.
Finally, you know of course that you WON"T become the source of those stories because you're already very good and have a vision of your own style. That's not the kind of application they're (callously) mocking. I'm SURE of that.
Good luck. Good luck.
Go for it. And who knows, maybe you will be the story that goes something like this...there once was this girl who applied and wasn't very confident, but she had amazing talent and went on to be tremendously successful. We are proud to claim her as one of our success stories! Starting something new is always scarey. jackie
I was asked once by a man I had just met (that in itself is a long story): What are you not doing because you are afraid of failing? I immediately thought of my writing and the many unfinished novels that sit on my hard drive. I am self-defeating. I am scared of failure. I understand this post. To me, putting myself out there is like standing naked before a crowd asking for judgment. The funny thing is, I know I could handle the judgment, I would live, so why do I still not move forward? I don't know.
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