Critique This

And I don't mean my rosy red lips. Not that my lips are rosy. Or red, actually. They're really more pink colored....and kinda chapped....just sayin'.

What I do mean though, is my Design Processes Studio Class. You know, the one class I have Mondays and Wednesdays at 5:30 in the evening until 7:20. Gag me with a spoon. When I signed up for this class, I had no idea what 'Design Processes' entailed, and therefore I had no clue what impending doom awaited my naive arrival.

Indeed it was what I will call artistic hell.

You see, design processes is a class for architecture majors. This is because you are more focused on designing things than you are focused on the art. Unfortunately for me, this class is required for all art majors of any kind so I really have no choice except to take the class and get it over with.

Mostly what we have been doing in said hellish class is critiquing other students work. So far we have been in school for three weeks and have already turned in two projects. Both of which I thought entirely too hard about and resented doing before I even completed them. However, the critiquing process is much, much more boring and loathsome than I had ever anticipated.

I feel like I'm in one of those movies scenes where the weather is always too hot and you're stuck in a room full of people. Like a classroom. The walls are an ugly urine color and your teacher's voice roams on like an adult character in the Charlie Brown movies. You can hear the clock on the wall tick with each second like an annoying vibration in your all too sensative ears and that fly in the back corner has ADD as it buzzes around, unsettled. It's as if everything is magnified. The stool you're stuck sitting on is all but too comfortable for your poor little bottom and your lower back starts to pulse from bad posture and lack of support. It's like you're slowly dying.

I just sit there with my head on my hands, eyes dulled over, mouth slightly open, and feet swinging back and forth because my legs are too short to reach the floor. Every so often I seem to feel the need for a change in position, so I sit up for a few minutes before I again realize why exactly it was that I was slouching against the desk in front of me and I resume my previous pose.

The critiques go on for over an hour and half. And then when we finally reach the final project, my prof goes into talking about our next assignment. It's hard to stay focused when all I'm thinking about is how dry my throat is, how much I wish I had the last hour of my life back and how I'm going to go across the street and order a raspberry mocha when I'm finally allowed to leave this overly hot prison of a studio classroom.

And guess what?

Our next project is about making something traditionally considered ugly and turning it into something conceived as beautiful. Then we are to take something traditionally considered beautiful and make it ugly.

Ooooh boy I don't know what I'm going to do with all the excitment in the air....*drools*