We all wait. Things take time.
It seems like an eternity until you look back, open the door and discover that YOU made something happen.
It’s been about six years since freshman year of high school, three years ago I began college, 15 months ago I realized that college wasn’t the right college, and for the last four months I’ve been waiting.
Waiting for what you may ask?
Well, I was waiting for an answer, a result, a confirmation of sorts.
What was the question?
The question was:
Would I be studying in London come September?
Central Saint Martins in specific?
The answer to this question…
Is yes, I will be attending Central Saint Martins this September.
Here’s the second part to this proclamation, a very important part. You may have noticed I made a little shop, Bramble & C.
It’s filled with leather bags, hand made one by one in my studio with a great deal of love and care.
The sole purpose of this venture is to support my schooling in London.
So, please check it out! Tell your family, friends and neighbors!
For now, continue to read on…
You see, London has been in my sights since the first year of high school when a university representative came to speak about the school. This was the first moment I realized that studying Art and Design was an actual thing. That instead of spending four years with my nose in a book (nothing wrong with this method),I could spend it with my hands making things. Dedicate myself to learning and furthering something I truly and completely loved. An education in fibers and patterns, design and details. Fashion.
(And by the way, I have developed a dislike for the term “fashion”. It’s become surface and stale. But I’ll talk about that later…)
Anyway, take that imaginary remote of yours and fast forward several years. I was happily on my way to Savannah College of Art and Design as a Fashion Design major. Traveling to another country right after high school seemed a bit much and a bit complicated. SCAD was a good alternative and studying there was nothing to sneeze at. I was perfectly happy, immersed in foundation and fashion studies.
I came home for Christmas break sophomore year and something had changed.
A pesky and instantaneous thought entered my mind, stubbornly sat itself down and buckled up for the ride.
I was going to London. And I was going to study at Central Saint Martins.
Arriving back in the Savannah airport sitting in bagged claim I had the distinct feeling that my time there was limited, running out.
The stop watch had been set. And so I began to run.
Well, yes, how do I put this?
What I thought would be a spectacular sprint/race actually was sort of a half walk, half trudge. But an eager, excited trudge nonetheless.
There were times when it seemed more like a crawl. I will admit at the lowest of times I felt like a crying, tired toddler, collapsed on the floor with peanut butter smeared all over my face.
Blah. Blah. Blah.
I’m pretty sure most all of us have been there.
But the stop watch was still running and if this fledgling decision/idea was to come to fruition I had best keep walking.
If you press fast forward once again it’s December, 2015. You’ll find me in San Fransisco sitting in an office waiting room. A short woman, dressed in black walks in, takes the full portfolio and wonderfully ragged sketchbook from my hands and walks away.
I’ll save you a lot of time and me a lot of typing by saying that I had been accepted into the Fashion Design course at London College of Fashion. A school I had been dreaming of since I was fourteen. Hooray! Yay! Hurrah!
However, I decided to raise the stakes, and set my sights on Central Saint Martins.
But there was a catch, Central Saint Martins had a different application system. Almost like Harry Potter’s Triwizard Tournament. This parallel may be a slight hyperbole, but the general concept is the same. Multiple rounds of portfolio submissions, descriptions, statements. Include the wrong piece and you’re toast. And given that CSM admissions are as competitive as Harvard and Princeton and Yale, I didn’t exactly have high hopes.
Apparently, I’m not toast and that’s quite nice.
Thank you for reading this slightly long winded account of recent and not so recent events. And while all of this is quite exciting and pretty significant, the much larger and important take away is this: things take time. And according to the tag on the end of my herbal tea bag, ‘Patience Pays’. I think Yogi tea is on to something here.
What may seem like ages, is really only a few weeks. What may seem like an eternity is just a year. Yes, a year is a long time, but in the scheme of things it’s a teeny, tiny super duper microscopic bleep. Something I had to remind myself of continually during this process. Perhaps you’ve started a lengthy project, planted a field of sunflower seeds in hopes to see shoots, or maybe you are just waiting for water to boil.
Things take time. Don’t jump to the conclusion that you are toast.
Resist the urge to feel defeated by drudgery and impermanent tedium.
Here’s my only warning: don’t forget to turn on the stove and don’t get burned.
Thank you so much for reading, have a lovely day and go make something!