I only worked out once this week. Bummer. Dust storms rolled in most nights, and my allergies were bad enough to think I had a bad cold. On top of a couple other minor health problems this week, I was out. Not the great start I was hoping for. On the plus side, I started school this week.
I really, really like the classes I am taking this semester. Pattern Design II will be fun. I was a little nervous walking into it because PD I was taken at a different community college, and I was lost the whole time. My previous instructor was a little off her rocker and not a very good "teacher." Am I a harsh critic being a teacher myself? Maybe. But if you can't teach, you shouldn't do it, especially introductory classes. My new instructor seems open to helping us with individual questions and concerns about patterns as a whole in order to make us better designers, which is what I believe as well. It is nice to have a similar philosophy, and having someone so knowledgeable be so approachable is a relief as well.
Fashion Illustration is going to be a challenge that I am really looking forward to. I even went to a local Art Supply store and spent a small fortune on art supplies. I feel a little like a wanna-be artist with my drawing board and portfolio case, but hey, they were on the class list. I am terrified for this class. I grew up watching my twin draw with such ease and style that I never even attempted to do it myself. I decided a long time ago that that was his thing. I think I struggled with the idea that I wasn't naturally good at something, and so, like other things that I wasn't a pro at right away, I decided to avoid it completely. But it was always something that I secretly really wished I was good at and was always super jealous of Adam for being able to do it so naturally. My grandmother painted a lot, and I alsp viewed her as an artist even though a lot of her painting talent was credited to Bob Ross. Either way, it was something that they had in common, and that I always felt left out of. My dad drew, and even my other brother wasn't all that bad at basic drawing. Throughout my childhood, I battled with the thought that the gene must have skipped me completely. But the thing is, I never had the guts to find out if that was the truth. Is it too late to teach an old dog new tricks? I hope not. While I know I will never have the type of talent that Adam has, I still want to give it a whirl. I only hope that I will have a couple things that I like enough to show him in the end. I want to make him proud enough to say "Nicely done, sis." While I am highly intimidated by his talent, and feel like I am doing this in his shadow, if I hadn't have seen all of his work over the years, I wouldn't be inspired to try it myself, and I hope I can make him proud in the end. It will be probably be unnaturally hard on myself because of this, yet I am ready to take the plunge. And so is my new take on life.... Here goes.