Here’s a little teaser from one of the student blogs:

Wednesday, August 17, 2005: In bed with Design

It’s a funny thing, this portfolio school. Once you work so hard for something you have so much passion for (or sometimes seems that you have convinced yourself you have so much passion for) you become married to it. What I know of marriage may not be much, but I do know that you can’t really escape the person unless you divorce them and then you are basically left with nothing but the brand that you have just divorced a person. I can’t stop thinking about my work. I sit here in front of my computer for at least 2 hours every night before I actually do anything constructive, just because the anticipation of doing something constructive is overpowering. I check my bank account- 20 dollars, sweet…. reread the day’s blogs, think what I can write on my own… check and recheck my email, maybe write a random one to someone I haven’t talked to in forever due to my school marriage in hopes that they haven’t forgotten who I am and that I used to be the person that remembered they were having a bad day and sent them a card or at the very least returned their phone calls. That person got killed by a neon green and black monster.

I hate the word Design. If Design were my boyfriend I would change his name. To something more fitting like Crack or Heroine or something equally as addicting. But instead Design just goes right on being Design, having his way with me every night and leaving me exhausted in the morning, only to curl up next to his cold heart in hopes that someday he will actually care for me and maybe (gasp) financially support me. But for now, we just go back and forth. I give and give and give and just when I think I can give no more, he goes and looks beautiful on an olive oil packaging project, and then I am right back in bed with him, making the motherfucker breakfast.

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