we don’t live in american’t!

So I saw my shrink yesterday and my doctor this morning. He upped my dosage.

Cheers. 

I’ve been thinking a lot about dropping one of my concentrations. As of right now I’m an Art Major with an emphasis in Drawing and Graphic Design and a minor in Media Studies. It’s not that I don’t think I could handle both concentrations, but I realized lately that I’m one of the shittier designers in my class. As much as I like designing, my heart is not in it enough to devote more of my time to learning about it. I feel that I’m not competitive enough to survive in the design world. I’m not skilled enough to produce something really amazing. I have the talent and the capacity to come up with great ideas, but I suck at executing them. There are a million more people in the world that can do so much better than me. There are people that are so much more devoted to their work than I am. The past two weeks of my work this semester has really dappled in the art of Half-Assing. It’s not that I don’t care about my designs and projects, it’s that I don’t have the time (correction, I can’t justify making the time) to produce a really fantastic piece of work.

Although I enjoy drawing far more than designing, I can’t imagine having much of a career in it once I graduate. I mean, who’s going to hire a drawing major? What do drawers (drawists? Drawing-ers?) do in the real world?

But there’s the other issue- I don’t know what I even want to do with my life (as far as careers go) (and everything else for that matter). For years I’ve had my heart set on Editorial Art Director of Vogue (possibly Spin or Nylon), but like I said before, so many more people in the world are far more qualified (and frankly, want it much more) than me. I don’t like high stress, I don’t like deadlines, I don’t like meetings and networking and sacrificing creative integrity. Even if I did manage to score a job in magazine editing, I would be spreading myself thinner than a Chanel runway model just to survive.

This recent realization that I might not actually like design and editing as much as I thought I did has made me stop and think, “okay then, what do I like?”

So I had three vodka-cranberrys, watched a few episodes of American Dad, did some soul searching (more like soul questioning) and realized::

A.) I like making art (duh). All day, every day, without worrying about deadlines or grades. I could be a street artist I guess. Like the next Shepard Fairey or something (sans the legal battles and copyright infringements).

B.) I like being naked. So…stripper? Professional streaker? Curator of a nudist colony?

C.) I love music and concerts. I could help promote shitty inide bands (make posters, sell show tickets, curate venues and auditoriums?) Maybe I can get a job as a roadie for some shitty indie band. Or photographer for shitty indie band. Or artist manager for shitty indie band. Cover art designer for shitty indie band??

D.) I like looking at art. Online, in books, in galleries, etc. If there were a career that involved me being on weheartit.com for eight hours a day, I’d be making bank. If I knew anything about web design, I’d be making the next devianART.

E.) I like Facebook. Every time I see a coming attraction for The Social Network, I have a mini-orgasm. It’s like “Oh My God, what is this, and how can I replace my blood with it??”

F.) I love fashion. But I hate retail. So maybe personal shopper? Mannequin stylist? Costume design? Maybe I could get FOREVER 21 tattooed on my forehead and get paid a shit ton of money for being a walking advertisement.

The truth is I could probably do a lot more than I believe I have the capacity to do. Wardrobe stylist, concert promoter, brewmaster, toy creator, academy awards ballot counter (ßGoogle that shit, it’s a legitimate career), flight attendant, taxidermist, makeup artist, candle maker, fashion consultant, glass blower, bookbinder, puppeteer, tattoo artist. I could make money working as a waitress all day, sell head all night and run a secret underground print shop that produced popular zines. I could become a silk screener and rent out a studio apartment in New York and paint it silver. Be a regular Andy Warhol fame whore, an underground film star, it girl. Become really infamous and die at a young age. Optimist Drowns in Half-full Tub.

So I’ve come to terms with the fact that I don’t exactly have it figured out what I want to do. I don’t have a goal or a career in mind. I don’t want to be a professional graphic designer. I don’t want a job that I’m dragging my gin-soaked ass to every morning and taking chain-smoke breaks on the patio of the trailer-house-turned-mobile-office, having meetings every third day about typefaces, image editing and package layouts. I don’t know what I want in life. I don’t know what I want a degree in. I don’t know for sure if I’m going to drop my Drawing concentration and focus all my energy on design, or drop Graphic Design and do what I really love but have no real future in. if you think about it, it’s a slight lose/lose situation. I can’t decide.

But I know that I’m having another vodka-cranberry.