My kids have heard all my stories. At least they think they have and I often feel like I've got nothing new to add to what they know about me.
Ridiculous.
Often, when I launch into something eyes roll and I know they've heard it before. But yesterday, as I was talking about my nondescript high school experience, leaving college after 2 years and then heading to art school in my mid twenties there was a nugget or two not yet shared.
My road to design school was in no way linear. It wasn't until I'd left college, had been working my way through various positions in retail that I even learned what graphic design was. My last job before art school was a liaison between an art studio and their biggest client - close enough to see what was going on but still no with no idea how to be a designer.
Then I went to art school and was basically torn apart. I was terrible at every foundation class my first year. My painting teacher would shake his head in dismay at my utter lack of talent. My sculpture professor stopped critiquing me early on and in one drawing class models learned to skip my easel.
Then there was photography - the only class that I didn't cry before. As I put my final portfolio together my teacher thought I should seriously consider declaring that as my major instead of graphic design. I was tempted but back then it was timing and chemicals and darkrooms and lenses. All that took away from the art for me.
Rediscovering photography has been one of the highlights of this new jewelry project: finding the right light, angle, props, setting. It feels right to be doing this again.
