Change has come

I finished knitting my rectangle, and by 'finished' I mean 'I ran out of wool and haven't bought any more and probably won't buy any more ever and I'll be left with an awkward shaped piece of knitting that is too small for a blanket and too wide for a scarf'. So that happened. I'm not sure why I persevered so long on that rectangle but it still feels unfinished and has no purpose other than to exist looking rectangular. Maybe I can bullshit it as some kind of feminist art piece. I didn't spend less than a year in art school and walk out without some bullshitting skills. That is basically all art school is good for.

I say that in the way I say most things, which is for effect ('If I don't marry Richard Herring then I will just DIE. I mean literally DIE') but art school did actually improve my creating skills to some extent and, looking back, some of the tasks they got us to perform (which seemed kind of lame at the time) I now have some appreciation for why they got us to do it:

Art bods
'Sit in a cupboard and then create something that makes you feel the way you did whilst sat in the cupboard'

My brain
'Um... no'

... One week later...

Art bods
'Sarah, did you actually sit in a cupboard? This doesn't have the feel of someone who really knows what it is to sit in a cupboard'

My brain
'Fuck you'

My mouth
'Of course I did. It was... dark and stuff'

Art bods
'hmm'

Actually, strike that one from the record. I still don't see the point of that. All I wanted to do was paint cool looking girls and doodle fakeband posters. They wanted me sit in the dark like some kind of early naughties Elizabeth Fritzl. I do however regret not finishing the year out at least. So maybe I have grown since then. Nowadays I have the presence of mind to complete knitted rectangles even though they are pointless. Change has come.