The Art Center College of Design Experience
After receiving my acceptance letter into Art Center earlier this year it was mutually decided between my wife and me; that I would have to venture into the unknown Los Angeles landscape on my own. We simply could not bear the costs of child-care, housing, tuition, and living expenses under one paycheck. The day that my wife and son dropped me off at my new home I had brief flashback of leaving home at 18; except this time I was not packing my bag with comic books and a bottle of water. I was now leaving behind a beautiful wife and son, so that I may selfishly finish the education that I started 10 years ago.
This phase of my life I call “The Rebirth”. I am now in solitary confinement and without any outside support I have to find who I am and what I’m capable of. I felt like this issue of Spider-Man (Issue 63 “If this be my Destiny”) in which Spider-Man is buried under a pile of debris, and while water streams into the empty room Spider-man is trapped in he finds himself staring at his reflection in the water that’s on the verge of drowning him. He gathers himself and finds his inner strength and heroically manages to lift himself out of danger. I now have the strength to lift myself into a better life, no amount of crushed rubble will ever stop me.
I experienced orientation in a flurry of bagels, coffee and oatmeal, all while being shuffled around by Art Center Staff like I was a pack of cards. I made friends during orientation and found that most of the students entering school were on average 10 years younger than I was. It’s quite common for younger people to ask one another how old someone is, especially after seeing their work. “Wow! You’re so good for being 19 blah blah blah”. Although, I joked about my age in the beginning it became this long running joke within the group of friends that I had. The relentlessness reached a point in which I felt ashamed for not having the money to attend Art Center at 21 years old. Other than the age-related jokes, Art Center immediately provided itself with an onslaught of homework. This was now the hardest I had ever worked in my life, and it’s not that I didn’t want to work hard when I was younger, I simply did not have the finances nor the time to push myself to such great lengths. I love Art Center and in some weird way I hope It loves me back. I do miss my son every day though…
People have this desire to travel the world and find any form of excitement that will fill some unknown void in their soul’s. Having the honor of being Max’s father provides an unsurmountable amount of terrifying and thrilling adventure. More than enough to fill a hundred lifetimes, and It’s what makes being away from him so much more painful. Knowing every-day I’m not sharing in his experiences; as he finds new and fascinating animals, sounds, and events. He and I used to go on daily walks, and one of my fondest memories of us is when Max saw a squirrel for the first time. I remember he looked up at me with such awe after he saw the squirell as if to say “Papa I saw something new and I want to share it with you!”. I wonder if he gives me the same look that the deer gave me, in that early misty morning on a street in Pacific Grove. My wife had delayed leaving to the hospital and while on route she gave birth to Max in the backseat of our Volkswagon Jetta. I pulled over on the dirt side of the road at 3:17 a.m. and just as the dust had settled I saw a wild deer ahead of me. That deer looked at me the moment Max was born, I knew that it was searching for my soul. The wild animal stared at me with such intensity, it was checking to see if I was ready to be a father. Am I?
Art Center is an interesting place to be, the history that this school has is incredible. The price tag per term is pretty incredible too. All jokes aside I love being at Art Center, while I’m writing this “Why is Alex not with his family” blog post. It is almost 1 am and I still have to wrap up some work for my classes this week. At the time of this writing I have applied to 2 scholarships and 1 grant at Art Center (With several more scholarships and grants I that are still in the rough-draft stage). I have made a league of friends, some of which I am close with and if they’re reading this, they know who they are. I am also running for student council and I think we get results next week? (Vote for Alex). I love being here and I love how hard the school pushes you to do excellent work. Sometimes while sitting in my workspace in the kitchen, my eyes wander from my projects for a brief moment and I catch myself smiling. I think I smile because I feel like this is the first time in my life I can actually do the best work possible with no outside interferences to stop me. No loud nights at home, no concerns for money or places to study or live. Or maybe I’m smiling because I’m thinking of my beautiful baby boy and maybe he’s thinking of me at that moment too.
Art Center has been a challenging experience thus far and I still have 3 weeks to go. This school is not the Ryder School nor is it Angel Academy. It is not a small studio space with a light flavor of charcoal dust in the air, and filled with 40 hour drawings of the human figure rendered immaculately with straight lines and no emotion. This school is an educational springboard for some of the greatest artists, and designers of this century. It is such an honor to be here and I hope that I can make my mark while at Art center. To add my page in its history book of great artisans. I will to get this done right and get a job so I can be with my son. Sometimes I feel that water cascading in though, and while I struggle on the late nights with homework. I catch my reflection on my laptop and I find my inner strength, slowly I feel the weight being lifted once more.
People have this desire to travel the world and find any form of excitement that will fill some unknown void in their soul’s. Having the honor of being Max’s father provides an unsurmountable amount of terrifying and thrilling adventure. More than enough to fill a hundred lifetimes, and It’s what makes being away from him so much more painful. Knowing every-day I’m not sharing in his experiences; as he finds new and fascinating animals, sounds, and events. He and I used to go on daily walks, and one of my fondest memories of us is when Max saw a squirrel for the first time. I remember he looked up at me with such awe after he saw the squirell as if to say “Papa I saw something new and I want to share it with you!”. I wonder if he gives me the same look that the deer gave me, in that early misty morning on a street in Pacific Grove. My wife had delayed leaving to the hospital and while on route she gave birth to Max in the backseat of our Volkswagon Jetta. I pulled over on the dirt side of the road at 3:17 a.m. and just as the dust had settled I saw a wild deer ahead of me. That deer looked at me the moment Max was born, I knew that it was searching for my soul. The wild animal stared at me with such intensity, it was checking to see if I was ready to be a father. Am I?
Art Center is an interesting place to be, the history that this school has is incredible. The price tag per term is pretty incredible too. All jokes aside I love being at Art Center, while I’m writing this “Why is Alex not with his family” blog post. It is almost 1 am and I still have to wrap up some work for my classes this week. At the time of this writing I have applied to 2 scholarships and 1 grant at Art Center (With several more scholarships and grants I that are still in the rough-draft stage). I have made a league of friends, some of which I am close with and if they’re reading this, they know who they are. I am also running for student council and I think we get results next week? (Vote for Alex). I love being here and I love how hard the school pushes you to do excellent work. Sometimes while sitting in my workspace in the kitchen, my eyes wander from my projects for a brief moment and I catch myself smiling. I think I smile because I feel like this is the first time in my life I can actually do the best work possible with no outside interferences to stop me. No loud nights at home, no concerns for money or places to study or live. Or maybe I’m smiling because I’m thinking of my beautiful baby boy and maybe he’s thinking of me at that moment too.
Art Center has been a challenging experience thus far and I still have 3 weeks to go. This school is not the Ryder School nor is it Angel Academy. It is not a small studio space with a light flavor of charcoal dust in the air, and filled with 40 hour drawings of the human figure rendered immaculately with straight lines and no emotion. This school is an educational springboard for some of the greatest artists, and designers of this century. It is such an honor to be here and I hope that I can make my mark while at Art center. To add my page in its history book of great artisans. I will to get this done right and get a job so I can be with my son. Sometimes I feel that water cascading in though, and while I struggle on the late nights with homework. I catch my reflection on my laptop and I find my inner strength, slowly I feel the weight being lifted once more.
