To fulfill my duties an art student, I’m required, along with a group of my ‘need for creation’ peers, to take part in the worldwide artsy fartsy fest known as the “Sketchbook Project.”  This should be a doozy.

Anyhow, after handing over 20 bones that could’ve easily gone towards my coffee funds, I received a flimsy hipster-esque sketchbook that will eventually house the ideas mingling in my head. Nifty. Hopefully during my brainstorming sessions I’ll drum up some ideas that play on with the theme of my book. Oh, did I forget to mention that with the sketchbook comes a theme?  A starting point, rather. My mini sketch pal was handed over to me with the premise that the contents of my book would have some sort of dealings with the word “Treehouse.” Pretty strange for a theme, but I dig it. Though I’m actually quite excited chuffed (british lingo-you like that?) to be a part of this adventure, I’ve been avoiding my sketchbook like the plague. The culprit being the fact that I’m my own worst enemy. Just the thought of having hundreds of eyes gawking at my work in various museums and galleries, has halted my confidence as a budding artist. Beyond that, I haven’t quite mastered making my bright ideas come to life on blank sheets of paper like I have blank canvases on Photoshop. However, I don’t foresee this slump lasting too long as, one, I’ll eventually quit my bitching, grow some hefty balls, and welcome this challenge. Two, I have to present a ‘ready to be shipped out’ finished product to my quirky professor shortly before the end of the Fall semester anyway. That is, if I plan on getting the green light to pass the course and one step closer to my big day as a college graduate. I didn’t say I had major duties to fulfill for nothing. 

By the way, I’ll probably drag you folks along on the journey. You know, bore you and shit with my artsy antics.