Sometimes I get frustrated. Yesterday was my first day of my senior year of art school and I couldn’t help but think about how mush all of everything we were doing was bullshit.

I walked into my first class to a dark room with abstract video looped n the screen. Showering everyine with pink light. The professor greeted me wearing a long flowing cheetah print dress with fuzzy natural ling hair parted down the middle. As all the students sat on the ground watching the pink square bob in and out of the frame the professor introduced herself in her irish accent declaring her disbelief in the typical class room model and how she aimed to break down the barrier between student and teacher. She said, Im not a teacher, I’m an artist. She then said to get to know each other we should all just get up, walk around and chat like we are in a gallery setting. So all 15 of us awkward independent art makers awkwardly walked around trying to make eye contact out of pity and give them our smalltalk spiel. At the end the professor did a quick showing of a few of her pieces and when asked what it meant by some freshman. ( because the older students were too afraid to ask such a juvenile obvious question. She replied by saying he work can’t be explained more than an extensional emotional response from the audience. 

That was the class. Complete watered down bullshit of us all struggling to hold on to some superfical connection to each other. Not offering any transparency.

What bothered me about this was the time we all spent bullshitting. An empty protray of someone trying to sound cool, or smart or edgy. A mode that is perpetuated by the art institution. All of us so brainwashed by the normalcy of terms we don’t even question them. The olny person in that room that could even recognize the bullshit was the outsider. The beginner. The fresh meat. 

I think my frustration of art comes out of that normal person in me. That cheerleader, class president, soccer captain in me. The average american that would look at these things and ask, “how is that art?” What problems are you solving? What is your point? Why are your trying to sound allof or intellectual or edgy? Your not really doing anything?

Art school feels like a circle of inbreeding where everyone just keeps getting stupider and stupider by perpetuating the nonsensical dialogue that only they can understand and act like they can decode buut never really get it. 

Its a series of making assumptions and 

I’d like to do a piece where 5 people fuck each other in a circle and I masturbate from afar. 

Thats how I feel about art school.

Piece Ides.

5 Art students walk into a room wither full of fake money. 100 dollar bills wrapped 

Set them on a teachers desk. Piles and piles of money. Equal to what tuition is at sf. 56000 or so. 

Then they all sit in chairs while the professor writes jibberish on the board and inserts over used art words like juxtosipition ect.

All 5 students sit in their chairs and jerkoff.

All white room?desk and chairs and teacher in white? maybe just everyone painted white? 

students painted white.= no individuality

$40,402 a year to attend sfai

roughly 120,00 to get a BFA from SFAI 12 stacks for each person
60 stacks total for 5 people

100 sacked bills in a stack. = 
 10,0000