The more I hang around the Academy of Art and it’s huge variety of artistic people, the more I realize that maybe this is not my space. Or at least not in this country. I’m not social, I don’t have pink hair or tattoos, or piercings. I don’t have anything in my looks that says that I’m an artist. But I’d rather get home early for the Academy than spend most of the time there, having fun, chatting and drinking and smoking god knows what. Not because I’m shy or unsocial, I’m just bored to death by such things. I’d rather draw at home than sit there and drink and talk about useless shit. But then again, if I don’t do that, it makes me miss out on a lot of stuff.
I realized that in art, being social and knowing people is a lot more important than actually being a good artist yourself. I don;t like this fact, but that’s just how it is. And it makes me scared that I will never be able to succeed. It makes me very angry that I have spent most of my time sitting at home and doing what I have to do and enjoying it and working on my fantasy and drawing technique, while my friends who cant even draw a human figure are already running around on movie sets and meeting directors and artists.
Art is not my space. I love drawing, I love imagining, I love looking at it, I love feeling it, all kinds of art. I love making it, but it’s just not me. I am supposed to be an artist, but I’m not. Than what am I? An amateur? But how could I still be an amateur when I have spent so much time on my artistic self, I have lost so many things because of it. I don’t know about other artists, but I can never have both a social life and an artistic one. I have tried. There were times when I had excessive daydreaming, that’s when I drew the most, but at that time, I was very shy and socially awkward and wanted to get rid of this daydreaming which was already turning into a psychological condition. Then, I got rid of it. I had the biggest dream of studying at the Academy, and as I was about to enter, I lost my daydreaming. I was happy. I was social, I had friends, people liked me. I hung out in cafes, bars, got drunk, smokes, flirted and so on. Until I realized that I miss the old me. The one who actually felt like herself. The one who had tons of ideas come to her head without even wanting them to. Who didn’t have enough space in her mind to think about anything except artistry.
I have mood swings from time to time. For example now, I have spent almost two weeks rarely getting out of the house and coming from University as early as I can. I might not be drawing, but at least I’m thinking, I have ideas in my head. My artistic me is happy, but the other me is depressed, because I can have only one thing out of this two, while others can have both and it’s killing me that you have to be annoying and super interactive !!