The dream school.
I'm very much behind on updating this blog, and even more behind on the grand events I wish to narrate onto here. Surely I don't want to talk about graduation or the final week of school though. Honestly, those days were nothing but lukewarm summer rain and the sappy, hollow goodbyes of fellow classmates I never knew all too well.
True, there will also be so many things I'll miss about highschool--those rad Friday afternoons worth waiting for every grueling week, recess/lunch hours with Dansey & Shanny on the veranda, early mornings spent chatting with Sir Aldwin, and heart-to-heart conversations with T. Lani after school.
But the reality is that TSMS was anything but my dream school. It provided a smorgasbord of memories both good and bad, but that innate connection that I got out of TLT just wasn't the same as when it came to TSMS. What's really sad also is that a long time ago, I thought it would be.
Guess I was wrong.
--
Last Monday, I had my interview at the College of Fine Arts in UP Diliman. The final weeks of school were spent scouring my sketchbooks and old DeviantArt accounts in search of drawings I could stuff into my portfolio, and the week before I finally had it all bookbound somewhere in UP (for a reasonable price too, might I add).
Well this interview was certainly one of the most crucial moments in my life as an artist. For the first time, all my beliefs about art were laid down on a silver platter and handed to a UPD professor to judge, criticize, and belittle whatever junk I stuffed into my head. I was praying so hard that the prof who would "interrogate me" (so to speak) would be kind & honest enough without being extremely harsh.
The interview procedure is simple:
The professor who interviewed me asked me to take a seat and add my name to a small sign-up sheet while he would browse through my written essay--which, I must say, had him at the first sentence.
"'A picture is worth a thousand words,'" he chuckled. "I too have heard this about a thousand times myself."
I instantly knew he was going to be a fun prof to talk to.
Reading it a little more, he commented, "So you haven't decided yet what exactly you want to do? It says here you want to do comics, TV shows, and painting." Smiling, he added, "In order of importance, what would you put first and last?"
I replied, "I'm honestly not that sure... It's been a dream of mine ever since I was a kid to make comics, and it helped a lot too to have a little brother who would help me write stories. But as I grew up, I also saw that I had an interest with conceptual art too--especially paintings. In fact in my essay, I wrote that my greatest influences or my favorite artists are painters."
He nodded. "You know, if I were your dad, I'd put you in Viscom. And it's a good thing that that's what you want to do also, because your interests like comics and animation, all these are in Viscom."
Then he said, "But the thing is, Viscom is anything but painting or illustration. It's more into advertising and graphic design. You could take painting classes if you want, but... sayang naman kung magaling ka talaga sa painting. Kasi yung talent mo sa painting, hindi mo siya gagamitin ng husto kung nasa Viscom ka."
I replied, "I guess at the moment I really am not sure what I want to do. I really love beautiful, conceptual art, but at the same time I'm tied to my inclination with comics and animation."
He chuckled, "That's what we here at Fine Arts are for then. Maybe I can help you out if you show me your portfolio..."
A little too excitedly, I pulled out my book and the huge brown envelope containing the original pieces of my favorite work. The prof asked me, "Why is this bookbound? Was it published or something?"
"No, it wasn't published--I just had my portfolio bookbound specially for the interview." I replied.
The first page indicated that the book was a tribute to my mom--the first thing the prof said, however, was: "Are those her brains?"
We both laughed so hard at that comment--not only was that probably the funniest thing I've ever heard being said about my art, but to have that come from a professor was priceless.
Prof. Silvestre (he who was interviewing me) then skimmed briefly through the other pages of the book and laughed, "Your work is so dark!"
WELL. Of course it wasn't the first time for my work to be called "dark"--I recall one of my classmates even calling it "morbid." I didn't mind though; it was actually a good thing.
When he started intently looking into the drawings though, I was amazed by how my "dark work" suddenly became "beautiful work." The first drawing he flipped to was the one entitled "Sensitive," and he said, "This is so beautiful... what kind of medium did you use here?"
As I also showed him the original piece, I replied, "I used coloured pencils."
"What brand of coloured pencils do you use?"
"Faber Castell."
His eyes widened as he said, "Really? You don't use other brands like maybe... Prismacolour?"
It's kind of a big thing when it comes to exactly what brand of medium you use. Normally, you could use Faber Castells and make a fantastic sketch while wasting away Prismacolours on a crummy piece of newspaper and no one would know the difference. In the art world though, it's a pretty big deal.
"I actually don't have money at the moment to afford Prismacolour pencils," I said, slightly embarrassed.
He chuckled, "Well that's alright. You can actually watch out for sales on those products. You can get them at really affordable prices if you watch out for them closely."
It was a great feeling to show my work to Prof. Silvestre. He gave witty comments to all of them (upon seeing Shatter, he said, "So I guess some guy shot him from behind is that right?") and said, "Your work is very beautiful & unique... you actually could be an illustrator too."
He mostly asked about what medium or programs I used--for example, for Submerged (top right), he asked what program I used for colouring it. He asked also what kind of pen I used for Get Into Reading and the subjects for Ann & Creepy Chan. I think he was impressed by how most of my work (excluding the portraits, of course) were spawned from imagination. Suddenly I felt what it meant to be really proud of my work without feeling any guilt about it.
Prof. Silvestre said so many kind things about my work and even enjoyed reading the comics I had put into the book. If I recall, his exact words were, "I'm actually enjoying this... if there weren't so many other people outside, I'd really continue looking through the whole thing!"
This was probably the most relaxed interview I've ever had. I didn't even feel like I was actually talking to a college professor even--it was like talking to my dad or an uncle of mine.
Nearing the end of the interview, Prof. Silvestre said, "I'm going to write out on your form that I'm permitting you to take the Talent Test; I believe in your work."
"Thank you so much, Sir... you're like the kindest prof I've ever met."
And then came the most amazing thing said during the interview.
"Don't thank me. You deserve it."
--
I might have been to CFA a few times, but the entire time I was there last Monday, I already felt like I belonged. I just wanted to stay there forever, even in the warm sun, just basking in the glory of so much art, so much expression surrounding me everywhere I looked.
Since then, I've been wondering so much about what would actually happen if I got exactly what I wanted: to go to the College of Fine Arts in UP Diliman, to meet amazing people who would turn out to be the best friends I could ever have, to make stunning art, to truly experience the best years of my life. At the same time I found myself thinking, "What if it ended up like how my first year at TSMS started out; expecting so much greatness and ending up so sad?"
True, there will also be so many things I'll miss about highschool--those rad Friday afternoons worth waiting for every grueling week, recess/lunch hours with Dansey & Shanny on the veranda, early mornings spent chatting with Sir Aldwin, and heart-to-heart conversations with T. Lani after school.
But the reality is that TSMS was anything but my dream school. It provided a smorgasbord of memories both good and bad, but that innate connection that I got out of TLT just wasn't the same as when it came to TSMS. What's really sad also is that a long time ago, I thought it would be.
Guess I was wrong.
--
Last Monday, I had my interview at the College of Fine Arts in UP Diliman. The final weeks of school were spent scouring my sketchbooks and old DeviantArt accounts in search of drawings I could stuff into my portfolio, and the week before I finally had it all bookbound somewhere in UP (for a reasonable price too, might I add).
 |
| Poetically Incorrect |
The interview procedure is simple:
- Submit application form to the two dudes sitting in a booth in front of the faculty lobby.
- Find a rock.
- Sit on it.
- Wait.
- Have your name called on.
- Run into the faculty lobby as fast as you can without ruining your portfolio.
- Be interviewed.
The professor who interviewed me asked me to take a seat and add my name to a small sign-up sheet while he would browse through my written essay--which, I must say, had him at the first sentence.
"'A picture is worth a thousand words,'" he chuckled. "I too have heard this about a thousand times myself."
I instantly knew he was going to be a fun prof to talk to.
Reading it a little more, he commented, "So you haven't decided yet what exactly you want to do? It says here you want to do comics, TV shows, and painting." Smiling, he added, "In order of importance, what would you put first and last?"
I replied, "I'm honestly not that sure... It's been a dream of mine ever since I was a kid to make comics, and it helped a lot too to have a little brother who would help me write stories. But as I grew up, I also saw that I had an interest with conceptual art too--especially paintings. In fact in my essay, I wrote that my greatest influences or my favorite artists are painters."
He nodded. "You know, if I were your dad, I'd put you in Viscom. And it's a good thing that that's what you want to do also, because your interests like comics and animation, all these are in Viscom."
Then he said, "But the thing is, Viscom is anything but painting or illustration. It's more into advertising and graphic design. You could take painting classes if you want, but... sayang naman kung magaling ka talaga sa painting. Kasi yung talent mo sa painting, hindi mo siya gagamitin ng husto kung nasa Viscom ka."
I replied, "I guess at the moment I really am not sure what I want to do. I really love beautiful, conceptual art, but at the same time I'm tied to my inclination with comics and animation."
He chuckled, "That's what we here at Fine Arts are for then. Maybe I can help you out if you show me your portfolio..."
A little too excitedly, I pulled out my book and the huge brown envelope containing the original pieces of my favorite work. The prof asked me, "Why is this bookbound? Was it published or something?"
"No, it wasn't published--I just had my portfolio bookbound specially for the interview." I replied.
We both laughed so hard at that comment--not only was that probably the funniest thing I've ever heard being said about my art, but to have that come from a professor was priceless.
Prof. Silvestre (he who was interviewing me) then skimmed briefly through the other pages of the book and laughed, "Your work is so dark!"
When he started intently looking into the drawings though, I was amazed by how my "dark work" suddenly became "beautiful work." The first drawing he flipped to was the one entitled "Sensitive," and he said, "This is so beautiful... what kind of medium did you use here?"
As I also showed him the original piece, I replied, "I used coloured pencils."
"What brand of coloured pencils do you use?"
"Faber Castell."
His eyes widened as he said, "Really? You don't use other brands like maybe... Prismacolour?"
It's kind of a big thing when it comes to exactly what brand of medium you use. Normally, you could use Faber Castells and make a fantastic sketch while wasting away Prismacolours on a crummy piece of newspaper and no one would know the difference. In the art world though, it's a pretty big deal.
"I actually don't have money at the moment to afford Prismacolour pencils," I said, slightly embarrassed.
He chuckled, "Well that's alright. You can actually watch out for sales on those products. You can get them at really affordable prices if you watch out for them closely."
First Row: Ann | Sensitive | Shatter
Second Row: Creepy Chan | Submerged | Get Into Reading
It was a great feeling to show my work to Prof. Silvestre. He gave witty comments to all of them (upon seeing Shatter, he said, "So I guess some guy shot him from behind is that right?") and said, "Your work is very beautiful & unique... you actually could be an illustrator too."
He mostly asked about what medium or programs I used--for example, for Submerged (top right), he asked what program I used for colouring it. He asked also what kind of pen I used for Get Into Reading and the subjects for Ann & Creepy Chan. I think he was impressed by how most of my work (excluding the portraits, of course) were spawned from imagination. Suddenly I felt what it meant to be really proud of my work without feeling any guilt about it.
Prof. Silvestre said so many kind things about my work and even enjoyed reading the comics I had put into the book. If I recall, his exact words were, "I'm actually enjoying this... if there weren't so many other people outside, I'd really continue looking through the whole thing!"
This was probably the most relaxed interview I've ever had. I didn't even feel like I was actually talking to a college professor even--it was like talking to my dad or an uncle of mine.
Nearing the end of the interview, Prof. Silvestre said, "I'm going to write out on your form that I'm permitting you to take the Talent Test; I believe in your work."
"Thank you so much, Sir... you're like the kindest prof I've ever met."
And then came the most amazing thing said during the interview.
"Don't thank me. You deserve it."
--
I might have been to CFA a few times, but the entire time I was there last Monday, I already felt like I belonged. I just wanted to stay there forever, even in the warm sun, just basking in the glory of so much art, so much expression surrounding me everywhere I looked.
Since then, I've been wondering so much about what would actually happen if I got exactly what I wanted: to go to the College of Fine Arts in UP Diliman, to meet amazing people who would turn out to be the best friends I could ever have, to make stunning art, to truly experience the best years of my life. At the same time I found myself thinking, "What if it ended up like how my first year at TSMS started out; expecting so much greatness and ending up so sad?"
This point forward, it could really go either way. I just really hope that my fears won't interfere with me losing love for the school I've always been dreaming of.