“That’s it.”Posted: May 13, 2017
I expected a lot from the final three weeks; some kind of dramatic punctuated ending, a meaningful shared experience, an empathetic collective wave of emotion maybe. Instead, the approach came quickly, jarringly, and the end rolled over ironically unexpected and tense. And “That’s it.” She said, what I remember most about the last day, just yesterday, was an air of tension and then another of us repeating the words “that’s it”, “that’s it” as if this would somehow spark an ingenious revelation of possibility and hope. Instead I feel drained, dazed, like I am tilting off a clifftop blindfolded. I’m hoping the fall will surprise me with candy floss and diamonds but it could equally be a pit of snakes, tigers even, and I won’t know until I let myself fall. I have to trust that I fitted a rope, or a parachute, in preparation. I have to hope that I will somehow find and grab hold of the energy needed to throw myself forwards into the void. Into something better than just a kitchen porter job found on Indeed.com.
What is left, temporarily, the last string attaching me to university life, is the exhibition. Maybe I should have blogged more, maybe I should have spent more time on my portfolio of 3rd year work. Now it’s all handed in and there is nothing left but the silently standing exhibition space, regrettably sparse corner filled only with ‘secretly’ unfinished screen printed t-shirts and hand painted skateboards. The unrealistic initial ambition muffled underneath a simple branding project, hopefully it will be enough.