Most of you (you: the three people that read my blog... hahaha! I sound like I'm talking to some big audience here) have probably heard me complain about how hard it is to keep up with projects at school. Sam, the other "artist" in family (Sam's a graphic designer), consoles me most effectively because he understands the pain of it. BYU was hard. But FIDM is a whole different animal. It's comparable to pain from physical exertion vs. pain from illness. Physical exertion hurts but it's a comfortable/I'm-not-going-to-die hurt. Physical illness just hurts and leaves you wishing for death. I always forget how miserable it is to be sick until I'm there. Like those minutes before you throw up you feel certain that you want to die it just hurts that bad.
BYU was a work out. FIDM is an illness.
No matter how hard I try to meet deadlines, I come up short. I could forgo sleep for a week and find myself with an incomplete project at deadline. I overheard a few girls in class today noting how we all look like crackheads because we're so tired. The funny thing is that in those hours or days before an assignment's due I am totally convinced I've met my academic end, seeing no way that I can accomplish the task at hand and I feel sooooo sad. I mope and tell friends how "It's all over, I'm going to fail." Today, I was barely 50% completed with a design project for presentation. To speak biblically, I would that the earth open her mouth and swallow me. I just didn't want to bare the humiliation from the teacher as she'd, in her smart British accent, interrogate me in front of the class on all the things missing from the project. Though wavering, I went to class, make-up strategically removed before leaving for the purpose of an easy clean-up melt down in the car on the way home. As usual, the presentations progressed and it came to my turn. I mustered what confidence I could and led the class through the first group (the only group): Lounge wear inspired by Quilting using Anthropologie as the ghost company for my designs. The teacher didn't interrupt me ONCE to point out flaws! Not once! And when I finished her words were: "Excellent! I want you to hurry and graduate so you can work for them and I can buy those clothes! Flawless! Your layout is perfect. Fabric choice, perfect. I can't wait to see when it's finished." The class continued in similar accolades. Has the world gone crazy? Once again, so it seems, that even in view of my inadequacies, I'm still pretty amazing.
2 comments:
Am I one of the lucky three??? You are my favorite too.
Congrats on the accidental success of your project! If it was that excellent at 50% I can only imagine what the full 100 would have done to your poor teacher! I like how you can throw something together and it's still fabulous. Like remember Summer's wedding dress? And also I want to see pictures of all your work! Where are they?
Charlotte that is awesome to hear! Seriously it made me so happy to read that and very VERY proud of you! Give yourself a slap on the bottocks and tell yourself "Good game Lundell"
Here is a quote that Tim gave me and it reminded me of what you just described. I love you!
"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, and comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat."
Franklin D Roosevelt
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