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fighting for fantasy

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the great scar, my story [Sep. 12th, 2006|12:35 pm]
fighting for fantasy


I am living fantasy through my artwork. It has always been so, down to the very first thing I painted. I had no fear to paint dragons and other creatures or things that could not be. It was my passion to make them up and give them life with those few lines I could do holding a pen. Until today I know I am still one of the quicker artists at school when it means coming up with an idea and rendering it creative.
But in January 2005 I learnd my hardest lesson.
A lesson that has made stop sharing myself as I truely am with everyone. I have become cautios. I have become the silent wall that has no life and blends with every other student.
I am studying art. ARt teacher to be exact. I have always wanted to be a freelancer but I decided to have a second basis. I like to teach, or should I say, support an every artist trying to be one. I may not be psychologically or , from what I consider a powerful traditional art theory basis, capable, but the liking was there.
The scar I earned I carry with pride, it has made me what I am now, a silent and glaring creature that will fight to death for those who are like me before I become this.
Somewhere I will never forget this. its been over a year now and it still burns as if it was yesterday. I just stopped talking a lot of it.

January 2005, Basel, artschool
The subject we had was called something like creating art, it was a suject held over a few months once a week and we were rather free to create our own projects and works to a main title.
This time our subject was TIME.
being both a writer and an artist I wrote within one day a short story based on my childhoods idea of the immortal Uniconr. If you wish, you can read it here:
I illustratet it in various versions and made some guide books to go along with it, one of them full of illustrations of studies for unicorns and descriptions of their kind and their history.
WHen I eventually got back the project the two teachers had graded it pretty low. At first i understood as they had , rushed, pointed the low quality of the presentation. Some of the papers had different sizes. But lateron i realized, comparing with my fellow students, that it could not only be that.
SO I spoke again with the, what i knew was the main teacher, as the other one always seemed to just follow her lead.
She took my works and told me her main reason. the fantasy. I told her that a fairy tale has fantasy. Then she began to dig and with some horror I saw what I had never expected to see from a teacher or have as a sample. She showed that she purely hated fantasy. All was fantasy. And it was bad. She would not want to take a second look at it as soon as either Unicorn, dragon or whatever symbol, name titel only HINTED the word fantasy. Because fantasy is no art. I stared in disbeliev. SHe tried to argue that she already knew all the fantasy because she had some "friends who did it". I did not know what to say. SHe asked me what I wanted to be and when I said art teacher she said if I added these images in the folio I would definitly fail. Then she dug out my scetch book with the unicorns and said that she could specifically see the fantasy in the way I DREW MY LINES.
I asked her how she could know that and she said "the way you make a horse head in a few lines". As to her believe you had to image google a horse, print it and then use the tracing table to copy it to paper.
She literarely told me I sucked because I drew fantasy and because I CAN DRAW.
I was numbed. I packed my stuff and left home, my fellow dear students had waited for me, asked me how it had gone, but as they met a cold and silent wall, stopped asking. My dearest friend gave me a nudge and said "dont listen". But I had already heard.
And it had hit be deeper than i thought. I never really told the people around me that week. I spoke about it here on LJ and other places because I thought I'd burst and rage in my little appartment. I even kept still from my parents, close friends. My parents only noticed something was wrong when my Dragoncon application got through, they called me and I started to cry on the phone like a baby. I was down on the very lowest ground in my sould, but when my Mum said she's come the next week to visit me in Basel and my honey was to come over I ripped my arse up and tried to be happy.
I hated that teacher so much that moment that i hated myself for feeling something like that.
I got protective over my artwork, hid it from public view at schools. And partially darkness creeped into my works.

eventually I calmed down a bit and beside my anger I felt something new.
now I even more wanted to become an art teacher. I wanted to be able to prevent with all power that something like this could ever be repeated again.
But until then I would be the silent and the still student that had no life and nothing that could only hint fantasy.
I have been at school for one year now and until today 95% percent of the students and all of the teachers (atleast teachers i frequent) do NOT KNOW what I do.
I will even lie to them telling that I have never done sculpture before so they cannot ask me what was the subject of my already done works. Lies. White lies. I feel ashame but I have to. This determines me even more.

Do not be mistaken, this was not the only case.
She, that teacher, had an excuse to directly attack my work, but with another teacher I had a similar problem. I made the mistake of sending him my homepage link. apparently he looked at it and asked me about it. WIth an almost stupid question of if I had done those works. A week after we had grades feedback and he also commented on my colors to be to much fantasy. In color. By then I was already numb and I took it with a shrug, because if I tell you what object I painted you will shrug at him too: http://www.mineralminers.com/images/abalone/mins/abam101x.jpg
again that was a reason for his grading.
Another month later another teacher told me that my work was scary. Like Giger, HR Giger from Alien.

It is a long time ago. From then until now I have occaisonally raged, pittied the persons, raged at them, shed a few tears inside myself. For the new year I burried it and called it PAST. Past, with a lesson learnt.
The novel and the illustrations I made died that very week I got that teachers feedback. It could have been a good projekt, maybe. But I experienced the first time what it meant to have an artwork killed. Right now the whole collection of artworks and writings reside with a good friend.

This is my story. I will have a better one for you next week, but for now I leave you with an encouragement.
Things can hurt, but if you really love them and you know they are part of you then it is still better to turn your back at the world and wait for your time.

[User Picture]From: eosfoxx
2006-09-12 03:34 pm (UTC)


hey akeyla
i always did get parts of the story- never the whole. Now I did.
I'm sorry for what happened to you.
And yes, believe me- I know how it feels. Something similar happened to me .. two times. so here is my story
The first time at the age of 11 in the 5th class.
In the 4th class, my drawings were cool. Because people liked me, and really young kids aren't interested in clothes. But this changed in the 5th class.
I protected a "friend" of mine from mobbing - so i became the target. And i didn't wear the right clothes. And now my pictures were hated. I was told that i'm stupid because i draw foxes. At first I ignored them. But after I became the outsider and my "friends" turned their back on me.. they had broken me.
I stopped drawing foxes for a long time and felt so lonely for years.

After years - in the 10th class. I discovered the furry fandom on the internet. And it was like a rebirth on one day. I drew my first fox in years and were so crying (because of luck).
BUt i could smile from the deepest part of my heart again.
I searched other furries and got friends, some very good friends- true friends - the very first time in my life.

I was drawing animals again and i loved it, so I decided to went to an FOS( FachOberSchule für Gestaltung = Fachabi). I passed the test and moved to Nuernberg for it. The first year stared okay.. until the next thing happened. There was a girl, I didn't think she would be like that, so I gave her my ICQ-Number. AT that time my ICQ name was Kitty-Foxx. That was also the name I was named in the furryfandom and under which I was showing my art. The girl took the name and typed it into googel.
The found my VCL-archive ... with my adult works.

I recognized this first as someone - in class- came to me and asked "Do you fuck animals?" But the person who asked - was the only one who had the courage to ask. I said "NO!" and explained it to her. She understood and became my friend. The others- the ones that typed it into google. Didn't ask, they just wanted a victim for their mobbing. So that was me since then.

I had to change my nick.. and had to delete my complete galleries so that they couldn't chase me anymore. I was so broken as I did this. Only crying and totally afraid of what might happend.

The mobbing continued till i went into another class.

Since than, no one beside my furry friends or really good friends know my new nickname. and in the last class 12th I hide everything that had to do with furry, in any kind of way.

So yeah - I know how you feel.

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