I found one of my old blogposts from freshman year, and I couldn’t help but cringe. I thought the bigger the words, the smarter I sounded. Honestly, I’m 3 years older now and I still don’t know what half the words I used mean. I couldn’t help but notice how unauthentic it sounded. It didn’t sound like me. Instead, it sounded more like the direction set on the bottom of a DIY art project on youtube.
I wrote, “What I think complimented my graphic comic was the choice of ink in the final sketch. In my opinion, the final decision of using ink suited the mood of the comic. For instance, the ink chosen was dark… from this, I learned how to draw with a reed stick.”
I learned how to draw with a reed stick. Well, obviously. The medium for the project was a reed stick. It’s a given that I would learn how to draw with a reed pen. I don’t really know what I was going for with the “the mood” part in that. It was a comic about a satanic robot. It kind of sounded like I combined a rhetorical analysis and a direction set into one. Poor choice on my part. That’s not the point of this blogpost though. I was trying so hard to sound smart. I realize now, nothing sounds dumber than trying to sound smart. Blogposts aren’t meant to be genius. Blogposts just have to be honest. Of course blogposts will be tedious, painful, and gruesome if you can’t come to terms with your own process. If you hate a project..write about it. Pretending to enjoy something won’t make you a better artist. Maybe a better liar, but that’s pretty much useless. Unless you have to take a lie detector test, but the chances of that happening are usually pretty rare. Coming to terms with the process of something is probably the most important part of any project. If a project takes away from your velocity and makes you cry.. write about it. Don’t try to sound smart. Don’t try to take away from the honesty of your artistic process. Bigger words don’t make you sound smart. Rhetorical devices don’t make you sound smart either. The truth is you’re probably not as smart as you’re trying to seem. But that’s okay.
The chance of being a genius at 17 is unlikely. I’d rather take my chances with honesty.