west coast

I am never going to complain about having two roommates ever again. The girl who just rode the elevator with me lives upstairs in a room with seven other girls. SEVEN. There is nothing that is even slightly okay with that.

Anyways, I am back in San Francisco. The weather is simply lovely – a little rain in the morning, sunshine in the afternoon, sweaters and fog all day. Perfecto! It is almost like I have never left. I have finished my first week of classes, all of which I am incredibly excited for. Let me lay them out for you.

My first class had a few familiar faces and seemed like a calm environment – the perfect place to focus on the fundamentals of Photoshop. Then, like a jack in the box, a Canadian with a mint addiction came leaping in the room and did not stop smiling and making dry humor jokes. This man is my teacher. At first, I was a little hesitant. Bouncing guys with overly wintergreened breath are not usually something I would like to hang out with for more than three hours, but since my sister is Canadian, I will give him a chance.

Composition for the artist is taught by a young blonde girl who read way more novels than cosmopolitan magazines. She is sweet as can be, but a little on the plain side for an art school. (Do not think I am judging – if you do not look like an artist here, you are not one. Which would make complete sense with her because she in fact is not an artist, but rather a writer about art. Hmm.) This class is going to be a breeze. I may not spell anything correctly, but writing is so easy for me. And the assignments will be beneficial: artist statements, written work explanations of my pieces, and so on. My class is filled with many students from not only different majors, but also different countries. It is refreshing to have some “non camera” friends. Different points of view and different accents are lovely.

Tim (my favorite teacher from last semester) teaches Visualization. I have a feeling this class is going to be my favorite. It is all about what makes you want to look at an image. The heart, the eyes, and the brain of a photograph. We get to print our work, critique in a circle, and have a concept journal that we are encouraged to scrapbook in along with writing our ideas down. Any teacher that tells me coloring and stickers are recommended easily wins points. This is my most creative class and for that, I am incredibly excited. Our first assignment is to produce one image that shows “fear.” I would love to tell you my idea, but I have this “fear” of people stealing my ideas. It all stems back to Lauren in preschool. I told her my Halloween costume was a Barbie fairy, and guess who showed up in a Barbie Fairy costume on Halloween? ME and Lauren.. This train of doing the same thing as me and thinking it is their idea has happened multiple times. I just can’t take a chance. Always tell them you are going to be a light bulb or M&M, never tell them about the Barbie Fairy.)

My final class is Quality of Light. First of all, it is in a warehouse like building thirty minutes from my dorm. There is no elevator, but rather ramps that stack up to each floor. In the main lobby there are multiple shiny cars used for flaunting the money of the Academy and of course car design student’s inspiration. I walked into the classroom, it is actually a giant studio (aka photographer’s heaven) and every one is acting like they are in trouble. No one says anything, they look down, and they look scared. The teacher is sitting in front with a weird smile on his face eating a sandwich that looks a few days old. He introduces the class by saying there is three things we must know:

1.     He’s a dick.

2.     He doesn’t give a shit about our opinions.

3.     This class is going to be hard and we will cry.

I seemed liked the only person excited about this challenge. Any teacher that is that honest is going to challenge me. He is going to yell. He is going to ask questions that I wont know the answer to just to see my reaction and scared expression. And he is going to teach me more information in fifteen weeks than any other fifteen weeks in my life. He is going to change my life, I just know it. The set up of his class is interesting, frightening, and forced-learning. Every day we will bring in our assignments and critique them. Same old, same old. Then, he will choose a photographer, who will choose an assistant, who will choose a model. Instead of him teaching the class and techniques, the chosen students will do the demonstration as he guides you through it. HOW AMAZING IS THAT?

xo