I just applied to Graduate school for Fine Arts. I'll be honest, its the second year the I've gone through the process. I applied last year and made the alternate list. Only one school interests me, and that is the only school I've applied to. Reasons I'm drawn to this school: 1. A director that is knowledgable about a broad range of current art movements. 2. The studios that have amazing natural light. 3. The student from the program I've met this past year looked like she was a burner. These are all serious deal makers for me. I've been painting for a minute now. A lot of years. There really isn't a guarentee that goes with putting in time making art. Some people do it their whole lives and nobody else is aware, and some people don't make work very often at all, and everyone knows who they are, and where they drink. And so is art. Nobody ever told me I'd grow up to be widely acknowleded when I pursued it, certainly not painting. But, after however long its been, I assumed I'd be "good" enough to get accepted into a graduate school, albeit one of the top schools in the country. I'm up against kids who were into Justin Beiber 10 years ago. Surely I had this. But nah. Artists have to be resilient. Blows to your ego can knock your whole shit out of wack. So I'm back again this year. It's tough thinking that I'll be denied again this year, but as the homie Devin the Dude once said, "hope for the best, prepare for the worst." And I'm starting to think about what the next year holds and what the attack plan is like for the application again, for a third time, next year. It reminds me of James Clevall's novel "Shogun". The main character, who is Portuguese in fuedal Japan, ends the book completing a ship that he will use to sail home. The Daimyo, or new Shogun, sabotoges his efforts buy burning the ship in the dock. Although the main character is pissed, he begins to rebuild his ship, and thus begins a cycle of destruction to rebuilding, forever.