niahx

just as creffield says "art is a process driven subject", art has already began the process of eating away my life.. gnawing at all my free periods, recesses and lunches. my clothes are always stained with clay and everyday for the past few days, i have been just been mindlessly piling on chunks of clay onto chunks of clay in an attempt to form what remotely seems like the shape of a lower arm. wait til i start on the palm. gad.

i can't believe that i m subjecting myself (and my A level grade) to the whims and fancy of some cambridge examiner. that the value of my art work is determined by this uncertain element in their oh all so professional view and expertise in this area. that i may, have toiled my heart soul and ass off for the entire year, pour what remnants of my social life left into the art studio and still end up with a grade E or a D that totally denies everything in an instant. instead of them appreciating my work, it is me who have to modify my work to suit their palates, lest they nauseate and throw up whatever english rubbish that they might have consumed for breakfast.

i m annoyed. so there.

and in longing