May peace b'wit'ye

Oh I had my first Sculpture critique today. And a thing has stuck to my gut... I had started to say about another person's piece, "I like how your light bulb didn't break off of your thing" I might have added, .."because plaster is fragile." But my teacher wrote on the board "I LIKE" with a slash through it, and I asserted, "Well regardless of your dislike of the word 'like', I still like how Bree's light bulb didn't break off because plaster is fragile and is easy to break." Or something.. and he backed down saying how he shouldn't have hit that nail on the head because I had explained myself afterwards. And my face went red, or I could feel heat on my face, because I didn't want my words to be used against me. Of course, I am word sensitive.. from an external standpoint, my teacher just wanted elaboration, but even know I am unsure if I had elaborated. He affirmed that I did after I restated myself, but originally, I don't even know. I feel bad because I feel like I was disrespectful for a teacher. Well, how I idealize how a teacher should be treated.. but then.. sometimes I see that they are just people, and I can't get past how they are just people, and I don't see them as a teacher. Until I do.

Oh, I just felt aggressive. My teacher has bad hearing, and when I had started to speak once, he put his hand to his ear, signaling me to raise my voice, so I did. But as I became more pronounced, the guy sitting beside me jolted. Holy shit, I made him jolt with my voice. His bodily reaction made me feel like I had yelled. This instance and the one above, made me feel like I was being angry or something.. presentably.

There is something that Thierry had added during my critique though.. it was that I shouldn't cater to the viewer. I like that.. but then.. outside of how I put my sculpture on the table. I'm going to use that for later on..

Critiquing was weird though. There were some things that I thought were just what they were.. a lack of attention or care. Other things were really ingested with things trying to say something. Like a piece of writing that has so many words that needn't be there to express what the overall written work is to express. Sometimes I don't feel to open to receiving the works of others. And then, I wonder if I am just bias on whether or not I like them.. you know. I get silent for the good ones, or the ones of people I like. But for .. a lot of things.. I don't know if I speak out my compliments of people a lot, but it's not like it's not there. Whether or not I say something is adequate, or convincing.. it still is. Hah, but fuck that eh.. is that me claiming my subjectivity as objective? Who fucking went overboard and claimed me captain, eh.

I feel shame in that.

But, what I do know is that it is really windy out. Someone got killed by flying debris apparently in Toronto.. I'm behind in my readings. All I want to do is sleep. If I could.. I would sleep for a while actually. But I still have a lot of readings to do. I want to get an alarm clock as well.. but when? I should get my phone fixed? But the thing about the phone is.. I am less anxious.. I think.. because I wait and I want for people to text me. Desperate for that talk. Without the phone it is quite nice.. because I will go to see those whom I want to see, or I'll make talk with just about anybody. I feel like I feel more free. But right now I am paying for a phone that I do not own.. I just have a plan without a phone. Fuck. I guess Wednesday or something. This will be.. a week an a half then.

What does it matter, any of this.

I feel like I'm stressing myself out with out a reason.. like a personal reason for gain, fame and glory. All I want to do right now is read some semiotics.. and maybe some queer theory. But I might only want to read semiotics.. because it is not imperative I do so. But Queer Theory.. and Art History.. yheup. Those classes are tomorrow.

.. Peace.