Chapter 2

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I dashed to my car after Mel and I said goodbye and grabbed my painting supplies from the trunk. I slung my DIY canvas backpack over the shoulder not currently occupied by my backpack, and grabbed my tackle boxes. Slamming my trunk shut with my elbow I started the trek back to the art side of campus. The first weeks of school were always the worst for parking, and even though I had managed to get to campus almost a full hour before my class started, I still ended up parking on the opposite side from where my classes were located. It always got better once people started skipping and dropping classes.
The walk across campus was at least scenic, CSUF put a lot of effort over the summer into the 'campus beautification project' and there were blooming plants everywhere, new sidewalks and even some of the buildings had gotten new facades. The art department was situated on the far north west side of campus and was noticeably older than the rest of the campus. It was well known amongst the visual arts students that the department received the least funding and wasn't up for a remodel for the next ten years at least. I walked up to building G where my painting classes were and noticed they had installed accessible doors over the summer. Grateful for the improvement, I used my hip to hit the button as my hands were more than full, and the doors slowly swung open towards me, a cool breeze welcoming me into the air conditioned building.
I quickly made my way down the hall to the my painting class and slammed my tackle-boxes on the floor once inside.  My hands were aching from the plastic handles digging in for the past 20 minutes and my arms were tired. 15 years worth of painting supplies were heavy. A few new faces were in the class this year, presumably new upperclassmen or seniors. I was a "super senior" meaning I was in my 5th year having elected to get my Fine Arts degree instead of a normal BA. The difference in the two was an extra 12 units, which normally would mean 1 more semester, but impacted classes and departments made it difficult. One more year would have to be it.
"Hey Winnie! Nice to see you in my class, almost didn't recognize you without glasses," my favorite teacher called as he entered the room. Andy was in his 40's and had thick unruly hair. He was your typical artist, very into the abstract and conceptual side of things. We all chalked his artistic personality up to his surfer side. Andy was usually caught coming to campus from surfing in the morning, or heading out to surf after classes. He taught painting and was also an academic advisor for the department. His office was known for having a sandy floor. He had become a mentor to me after our first advising session and I looked forward to his classes every year.
"Yeah, I'm waiting on new ones," I said to him. "Can you believe this is my last year?" He scratched his head, his face scrunching as he did so.
"Have you really been here that long already?" He asked. I nodded. "Time goes by too fast when you're old..."
"You're not old, Andy," I said with a laugh. I started unpacking my supplies and setting up my easel.
"Eh, just you wait till you're my age," he laughed. He walked over to some of the new faces in the room and started chatting with them. Finally, some of my painting friends showed up. Joan and Jackson walked into the classroom, each of them struggling with their own overflowing piles of supplies. They claimed two easels next to me.
"No glasses today, Win?" Joan asked, adjusting her own thick black frames.
"Not today, I'm waiting for my new frames to come in so I'm stuck with contacts for now," I said. I had knocked my glasses off my nightstand last week and in getting up to find them, stepped on them. Not my proudest moment.
"Well I like the new look," Jackson said. "As temporary as it may be."
"Thanks," I said with a chuckle. Jackson and Joan started telling me about their apprenticeships from over the summer and vacations. Joan was a double major in glass blowing and painting, and Jackson was a painting major like me.
"Okay everyone, lets get started," Andy said, cutting off Joan's apprenticeship story. "I know all of you by now, but we're going to go around and do some icebreakers so everyone knows each other. The syllabus is coming around, please read it later and if you have any questions we'll go over it next week. After icebreakers we'll take a quick break, and then get started on discussing what your portfolio theme will be for the year. Joan, why don't you start? Just your name, how far you are in college and something cool you did over the summer."
"Alright," she groaned. "Well like Andy said, I'm Joan. I'm a painting and glass blowing double major. I'm in my last year here and something cool I did over the summer was a glass blowing apprenticeship in Portland, Oregon."
"Oh rad," Andy said, his surfer side coming out. "Remind me to talk to you more about that." Joan chuckled. "Jackson?"
"Right, I'm Jackson. I'm a painting major - getting my BFA. This is also my last year. And I did a painting apprenticeship with a Martin Pearce, a teacher at Saddleback, this summer. I helped him with his installation and exhibit at The Broad."
"Dude that's sweet," Andy said. Everyone chuckled a little. Andy looked at me next.
"Oh," I said. "My turn. Well I'm Winona, you can call me Win or Winnie. I'm also a painting major and in my last year here. Um, I mostly worked all summer. I work at Artist's Loft in Huntington Beach. We do art classes and stuff like that there... That's really all I did."
"Nice, nice," Andy said. He turned to the next person and they introduced themselves.
The syllabus made it's way around to us and I started flipping through it as more people introduced themselves. This class was a senior level painting class meaning it was mostly about building our breadth of work. It was broken into 2 components - the actual grade which goes on our transcript and a professional panel review. Last year when I had taken it, I passed the class but not the panel review. So I technically had to retake the class to pass the review. Last year my portfolio focused on scenes of motherhood and the intimate moments that a mother and their child had. The panel was not impressed though and said my work felt mundane and overdone.  I was anxious about this year as I couldn't really come up with an idea over the summer to try to improve upon last year.
The last student finished up their icebreaker and Andy dismissed the class for a 15 minute break. Studio classes were long, typically 6 hours, so this was just the first of a few breaks. Usually once we were actually working on our projects the teachers would leave it up to us to take our own breaks.
    "What are you considering for your theme?" Jackson asked Joan and I as we stepped outside. I shrugged.
    "I'm going to do fetishism of asian women and their hair," Joan said. "I want to do these pieces where I'm entangled in long hair and in compromising positions. It came to me in these dreams I had before chopping off my own hair. Long hair on women in my culture is seen as a sign of beauty, and its so restricting..."
    "Damn, well now mine seems lame," Jackson said. "I was going to do nature reclaiming the earth and do paintings from abandoned structures around California. I feel like the contrast of these huge concrete structures that seem permanent and overwhelm cities being covered in something like greenery which is considered soft is a nice contrast."
    "I like both of your ideas," I said. "I have no idea what I'm going to do."
    "Yeah this is your second time doing this class right?" Jackson asked. Joan rolled her eyes. I nodded.
    "Why'd you say it like that?" She said to him.
    "Like what?!" Jackson said, shocked.
    "Like Win failed! She got an A from Andy, the panel just didn't like her work or whatever," Joan said.
    "Joan it's fine," I laughed. "I'm not worried about it. I just don't know what I'm going to do, which is worrying."
    "I mean do you have any ideas?" Jackson asked. I sighed.
    "I have a couple but I'm worried about getting the same feedback, I need to talk to Andy about this."
    "I'm sure he'll help you out," Joan said.
We noticed students heading back inside, so we followed them back to the classroom. Andy waited for everyone to be back before starting. He had moved all the easels into a circle. In the middle was a complex still life set up with lighting.
    "Okay, I'm going to do one on one reviews with each of you, we'll step outside for those so you can explain your theme, concept and projects. Just real quick, if you take a look at the syllabus, all pieces should be no smaller than 18 inches by 24 inches, and you need to complete a minimum of 10 paintings this semester. They can all be larger than 18 by 24, be different sizes, or even all of them can be 18x24. Any questions?" Andy announced to the class.
    "Does canvas depth matter?" A girl in the corner asked.
    "No preference as far as my requirements go. I will say the panel review next semester will be in the gallery, you will be displaying your work in a professional setting. As a general tip, gallery wrapped canvases are best if you are not planning on framing your work," Andy replied. "Good question."
    "For the gallery display, will we have help setting it up?" Another student asked.
    "That's next semester in the second half of this class. You'll get a separate syllabus for that, but yes. You guys will be put into groups and your group will help you to setup and tear down your exhibit. Anything else for this semester?"
    The class was silent.
    "Okay then, while everyone is reviewing their themes with me, please work on the still life set up in the middle of the room. I'm going to use these paintings to understand your skill levels, styles and understanding of color. I haven't had all of you as students before so this is a good way to set a baseline." The sound of tackle-boxes opening and supplies being set up filled the room.
    "I'm going to call you guys alphabetically, so Dennis Adams, you're up," Andy announced. A tall skinny white kid wearing a tank top, cut off jean shorts and flip flops got up and followed Andy outside. About twenty minutes later, Andy came back and called the next name.
    A few hours later, I decided I needed a break. I wiped my hands on my paint stained jeans and paused my music.
    "Joan, Jackson, do you guys want to take a break?" I asked. Jackson shook his head.
    "I'm in the zone," he said. "Bring me an energy drink though?"
    "Sure," I said.
    "I'll join you, I need to stretch my legs," Joan said.
    "Sweet, I want an energy drink too," I told her. We left the classroom and made our way to the student store. It was nearly 5:00 already, and we only had a couple hours left of our painting class today. Campus was starting to get more quiet as most kids were done with their classes before 5:00. The campus store was surprisingly busy with students getting last minute books and supplies. I grabbed two energy drinks for Jackson and I, and Joan grabbed a bag of pretzels.
    "So wait, I don't think you said what your theme ideas were," Joan said as we got in line for the cashier.
    "I know," I said. "I don't know if I like any of them."
    "Well what are they?"
    "I have two ideas so far, one I know I can do easily but the other I'm not sure," I said.
    "Okay, what's the one you know you can do?"
    "I was thinking about doing paintings of food, but mixing spices in. Specifically the middle eastern foods my mom used to make for me growing up. Something about how the senses help to build our memory - I read something about how the strongest memories are tied to multiple senses. So like the colors of the food combined with the taste and smell," I explained.
    "Ooh, that's really cool!" She said.
    "I feel like the panel is going to say it's basic though," I said. She shrugged.
    "I mean.... I don't think it is, but you're the one out of the two of us that has been in front of them before," she said. I nodded.
    "That's my concern. I'm hoping Andy can help me," I said.
    "He better, you're graduating this year girl!" We went up to the open register and paid for our things. We dodged our way through the crowds of students in the store to get back outside. I cracked open my energy drink and took a long sip. The carbonation tickled my nose and I rubbed it.
    "Okay what's your second theme idea," Joan asked. She handed me a handful of pretzels and I offered her my drink. She took a quick sip.
    "Okay, this one I feel like is more conceptual, but I'm not sure how to accomplish it. Just hear me out," I said.
    "Okay?" She said, confused.
    "You know how when you're in a relationship you go through phases of your intimacy? Like in the beginning no one wants to make a move, then it's like a little bit, and then eventually it's just everything all the time. Then it goes back down and you have waves? I was thinking about doing something about intimacy in a relationship? Not like painting people having sex, but like somehow depicting intimacy?"
    "Hmm..."
    "I don't know, I don't think it makes sense," I said. "I think the food option is the best idea."
    "No I don't know," Joan said. "I think both have potential. I think you just need to flesh out what you actually want to do with the second one. I mean, showing people who are actually having sex and making it look pornographic wouldn't be the best idea obviously. But you could probably do some sort of sensual thing with it that's artsy. Most of art is naked people after all."
    "Maybe Andy can help guide me. He's good with the conceptual stuff, you know?"
    We got back to class and settled back into painting. Joan got called shortly after, her last name being Nguyen, and she came back excited.
    "Andy said he was, and I quote, 'stoked' for my theme," Joan whispered to Jackson and I.
    "He liked mine too when you guys were gone," Jackson whispered back. I gave them both a thumbs up and focused back into my painting.

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