There are worse things to be. But I am. (Think the Cowardly Lion from Oz... only more dignified. Sometimes)

Y'know, for all that I've expressed a desire to pursue my interest in art, I'm really dragging my feet with the follow-through. I realized that I don't want to take Japanese this year, which leaves me another class, which I usually love. This time, not so much. Here's the thing. There's a design class open in my time slot. It's perfect. It's the one to take before you take, like, drawing and painting and whatnot.

I had such a horrible time with art the first time around that I sort of feel defensive about taking a class. That's an understatement. I'm afraid that someone else will tell me I'm no good. I've never been good with art.

I learned a lot from Bloody Mary. She was engaging with the topics, and I adored the people in the class. (I think it reminded me a little of high school, only now I'm not afraid. Well, I'm still afraid, but in comparison... yeah. You don't even know. But anyway, the class was fun.) When it came to her projects, though... She was a right bitch. Her syllabus stated that if we thought a grade was unfair, to go talk to her about it and see what could be done, but that was apparently code for "I don't have time for you, you talentless, tasteless, obnoxious creature."

She'd publically ridicule ideas from people. People like me, obviously. She has no way of knowing that speaking out in class at all; going up to her about things... they're huge deals for me. My social anxiety kept me housebound for months at a time. Starting college was one of the most terrifying things I've ever done. I don't expect her to be a mind-reader, but to say, "I suppose we can bump it up a little if you're going to slit your wrists over it..." complete with the eye-roll, I found inappropriate. "I can't grade on effort," she told me. "I have to grade based on end product. Do you think yours looks anything like the ones on display?" And, honey, if you don't grade on effort, I'm not going to give you any, because I'm not an artist. No, mine didn't look like the ones the art majors did. This is not a high level art class. It's intro to art. If she'd said flat out at the very start that she was looking for quality art, I would've dropped the class, because I've never had art instruction. But she said the opposite; "You don't need to be an artist to ace this class; we don't judge based on talent..." Royal we. Blech.

She also expected us to complete the projects without guidance regarding technique, might I add- We watched a video on Maria the amazing pot-maker (There is no sarcasm in this- this woman really is amazing, and world famous.), and that was ALL we got about pottery before we had to make our own. That was our last project, and anytime she'd walk by, I'd crumple my attempt up and start over, because she was laughing at people. Not in a kind way, either. She guised her jabs in humor a lot of the time, but we were all bloody by the end of that class. Hence "Bloody Mary."

So what did I learn from Bloody Mary? I learned to get angry. I learned to stand up for myself. I learned to hold my own and not back down. These may seem like silly little things, but they're important.

I wish she hadn't been so mean. I learned a lot about artists from her. If it hadn't been for the projects, I think I really would've liked her class a lot more. How's that for irony? Decent teacher (assuming she's not making fun of students), rotten art teacher. I'm still glad I took the class, despite how much I complain about it to this day.

But this makes me afraid to take more. I'm not good. Sometimes I see things and I copy them. But I don't know the first thing about actual technique.

I should take the design class. I probably won't. I'm a scaredy cat.