What oh what oh what to do. I have officially applied to OCAD. My stomach is churning. I feel sick. I feel like crying, like panicking, like, like, like.. I'm going to pass out if I can't get my mind to operate correctly.
DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT THIS MEANS? I think I only just figured it out now. I NEED 12 PIECES BY.. Well, by whenever they arrange a damn interview! ...interview. I need to do an interview. Oh lordy lord. Lord. God. Goddess. Ra. Anubis. Whomever I am speaking to. Please don't let this be the end.
Basically it means I have to get off my ass and take some photos. Do some paintings. Teach myself to DRAW.
NO MORE EXCUSES -angry face- I've arranged to go downtown with my good friend Joel on Thursday. Should be fun! ;D I'm thinking of buying a Holga while I'm down there too. They're sexy beasts.
The Canon is in the shop. I broke it, again. I'm pro, what can I say?
Happy New Year. Sorry this is so long and rambly, I just didn't quite realize how frightened I was of art school until this very moment. Go figure.
I CALL SHENANIGANS! On my life. On this trapped, tortured, pathetic artist I've become. You know, the sort that doesn't actually produce art? Yah, those.
THIS IS ENDING NOW. I'M TAKING A STAND, AND TAKING BACK MY MIND.