one good thing about going back to your parents' is that you get to look at your old work, and trip back to the days of... well, better days. high school days. the days when i used to be called the 'artist' of our year. the teachers said so, the yearbooks said so. that was my niche. i was proud of my niche.
in art school, you are no longer the 'artist' but an 'artist'. and when you see other 'artist' people's art, you question if you are an 'artist' at all.
of course the cold shower stunned me, and doubting my worthiness in the art and design world became routine.
no longer as half as confident as i was, no longer trying to show off my work mainly out of embarrassment, i am still trying to find my feet - and the course is nearly over.
anyway. old work. yes.
i loved the photography course we briefly did in art. we used to take the school's (really) old cameras out, scout the areas around the premises, walk into the klingendael forest, and take pictures of leaves and branches and ducks and daffodils and dogs with old ladies.
i should really go back this week.