So my foundation year is essentially finished - I had my end of year show preview evening last night.
It's bizarre. I've hated this year but I've really grown to love a lot of the people I've met, especially those I've painted. It's weird spending so much time getting to know someone but at the same time hardly knowing them at all. I'll miss my friends. The night out in town afterwards was a lot of fun. I danced and didn't care and laughed a lot, and I liked it.
The preview evening was so busy. There were so many people, in two whole hours I still didn't find enough time to talk to everyone I wanted, or properly look at everything. I'm glad I'm going back to the exhibition during the week, just to look at it all, and read everything.
It was exciting, seeing everything up. Seeing people wandering around with champagne glasses and looking up at my paintings, everything so full and noisey and lit up. But it was kind of scary too, like a tiny part of me wanted someone to just slip their hand into mine to keep me from floating away, to remind me that I'm not as small as I feel. That's kind of stupid though. Instead I had my slightly-too-high-for-me heels and a slight twinge of envy at the ridiculous number of couples.
I sold two paintings, £100 each. Or at least, people have said they want to buy them. I'm not sure I'll believe it 'til it's happened.
My two fine art tutors didn't speak to me the entire night. They haven't actually spoken to me properly for a month or so. It kind of makes me feel sick, thinking about the results. Grades. I only need to pass to get into my university, but I always want to do the best. Always. Even GCSE French. But they make me feel like I just don't even have a chance.
I don't know what it is, but somewhere along the line this year I stopped believing in myself. I don't know whether it was because none of my teachers did, or whether it was the stress of applying to art colleges, or whether it was just that I was afraid of the future, of not being good enough.
It's just, it's really hard to get back. This time last year. I had so much, I don't know what exactly, but like hope or belief or confidence, and this year in that place has completely taken it away from me.
I think this summer is going to be important. I'm going to do an oil painting. Just a small one, maybe A1. Just me in my room painting because I love painting. Not to pass a course or to try to impress people I can't impress. Just for me, and then maybe for bigger things.
I'm going to Wimbledon College of Art. After I officially graduate in two weeks, this year doesn't matter. I just need to forget it. Put it behind me. Put them behind me. I am moving on to bigger and better things, and hopefully somewhere along the line I'll get my confidence back.