Don't Be Afraid.

"You can't let fear keep you from being who you are."

Yesterday was strange in an oddly comforting way. I goaded the Torch into doing a secret show after the night's shows as an early birthday present, giving "Morgan's birthday" as the suggestion. I sat in an almost-empty theatre for approximately 30 minutes, watching people I love and respect make wildly astute observations about my life. Some scenes were hard to watch, some funny, some bizarre, but I felt such an amazing connection to all of those people performing at that moment. After the show, one of the performers (who I've recently gotten to talk to and get to know much better over the past couple of weeks, who also gave one of the most uncomfortable and heartfelt and touching and scary monologues I've ever seen) came to me, clasped his hands around mine and said "Don't be afraid."

At that moment, it seemed so simple. Don't be afraid. What a marvelously simple concept. When I got home, I cried. No, I didn't cry, I SOBBED. For hours. So touched by this community's love and unwavering support for their metaphorical little sister.

This morning, I felt like I was in a daze, torn between incredible confidence in what my future holds, and intense sadness over losing this amazing family. Whether they know it or not, these people will forever have a place in my heart, and I will carry the lessons they taught (in class and out) me for the rest of my life. I'd almost forgotten what this kind of love felt like.

Years and years and years from now, this will all be gone. Buildings demolished and replaced with highrises. Licenses expired and never renewed. People departed and searching for something new. But this love for a craft and love for people? That will never die, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

I know you all will never see this. But if, for some reason, you do, I love you all. You'll never know everything you've taught me. Thank you endlessly.

Everything Is Never As It Seems

I thought (hoped) that having these two shows hung and off my plate for the time being would alleviate a little bit of stress. Not the case. At all.

For some reason, this dark dread has planted itself on my shoulders, leaving me grumpy, anxious, and tense. Even though my deadlines for school are not technically until late October, early November, I set a personal deadline of September. By September 1st, I want to have everything packed up and sent out to their respective schools. Even though that deadline is two and-a-half months away, I'm still terribly stressed. The gravity of this decision of where I'm going to spend (at least) the next three years has finally hit me. I know what I want, but I can't help but be haunted by the fear of "What if I don't get in?"

I sell art fairly regularly. I've been afforded a lot of opportunities that artists my age (and hell, twice my age) have never gotten. I work hard and try to challenge myself in my approach to creating art. It actually occurred to me FOR THE FIRST TIME last week that, outside of my constructions courses, I have no formal studio training. Everything that I know about art, everything that I've learned about the technical aspect of art is all self-taught or learned through the observation of my peers in the arts district. While I strongly believe that this life experience has been invaluable in teaching me the functional approach to creating art, I'm still deeply concerned that the admissions boards of the schools that I'm applying to may not necessarily see it the same way. I have multiple years of schooling behind me, and I've garnered marginal success as a working artist, but will my lack of formal art training work for or against me?

Over the past few days, I've felt very...lost. My list of schools has fluctuated drastically, and I've felt like I desperately need an objective point of view to help me finalize this list. I got very excited about the notion of applying to MinneapolisCAD, but was immediately hit with the drastic impact of weather. Minneapolis looks like a great school and great city, but I don't know if that type of jarring weather experience is something I'd be able to handle as a lifelong Phoenician.

If I had to put everything into perspective and make a decision based on the bigger picture than JUST the school, it would be MICA or Corcoran, hands down. Not only are those two schools my top choices, I already know that I love the area, the weather seems to be fairly mild compared to Minneapolis' FORTY DEGREES BELOW ZERO. I'm experiencing minor hypothermia just writing that.

I'm meeting with Gretchen tomorrow, partially because I feel like she'd be able to give real, unbiased advice. Mostly, I just really miss her because she's not able to be out as much with Blueberry. I'm holding my breath until I see her, because I just know that seeing her will just...help. The advice I seem to be getting from everyone else is either "You're not leaving" or "Don't worry, you'll figure it out."

It's just...hard. It's hard to plan for something I can only control to a point. I know how badly I want this, and I know, if given the opportunity, I'll succeed because I refuse to accept failure. I've worked too hard for too long to accept failure. I just hope I'm given the opportunity.

It's All For You.

The shows at Verde and Sweets & Beats are finally hung. FINALLY. In total, I rode 108 blocks and transported 17 paintings to do it, but it's finally done. Well, ALMOST done. I forgot tape, so I have to go to Verde and put up titles, and re-hang one of the pieces (Si Robins took a picture and sent it to me and I realized one of my pieces is hung about 8 inches off skew. No bueno.) One of my pieces was damaged during transport, but I was able to fix it, which is great. My promotional piece for the September show is almost done. I've never actually had real promotion of a show, so I'm nervous about making it just right because the image is going to be all over. Along the same lines, it's a mixed-media sculpture, which is something I haven't done much of, but something I've been getting more into, so I'm doubly nervous, but also excited.

Hoping tomorrow I can some cleaning done around the studio, as pre-show frenzy always lead to the studio to looking like a tornado damaged town. I also need to get some more work done before I go down to my dad's studio to get more building materials and also take him out for lunch. His birthday was on Monday, and I wish I could really do it up for him, but my finances won't really allow that right now. It's hard being in a situation where I feel confident in my abilities as an artist, but still have a strong desire to make him proud. I mean, he's the reason I paint. He's the one who let me know at a very young age that art is not a luxury, but a necessity. He drives me nuts sometimes, but I love him and I want to do right for him as much as I want to do right for me.

I haven't been focusing as much on school paperwork and the drawing portions of my applications, mostly because I'm nervous. I need to just suck it up and do it. As Mick Napier says: "Fuck your fear."

We Didn't Come Here to Rock

Did a little research, and now MassART is off the table. While I don't fret about the potential score I might receive on a standardized test, I just don't think I'll be able to make the time to actually take the SAT. It's unfortunate, I suppose, but the coming months are so packed that to do one thing, it almost always means that I'm putting something on the backburner.

Appropriately enough, tonight is the Torch Theatre farewell show at 55, and I'm postponing painting feverishly to attend. The Torch is sort of the place where I really found out who I am and what's important to me. While I'm happy that they're moving on to bigger and better things (acquiring their own venue), the distance is just out of my scope of reasonable traveling distance. I've come to know, love, and deeply respect this group of people. They, for better or worse, are the ones I admire. They've become my family over the past year, and I'm deeply saddened that my Friday and Saturday nights will no longer include their unwittingly philosophical views on improvisation and life. That being said, I have a notion that this will be a good primer on saying my goodbyes. The moment leaving Phoenix became tangible, my perspective on the people in this city changed. I always knew that I was surrounded by good people, but my disdain for my situation clouded that view. Once the clouds dispersed and my departure was impending, it became that much harder to say goodbye.

I've never been good at saying goodbye. I guess there's no time like the present to learn a new skill.