a designer...not so much

So I had the reveal for my Darfur poster today. It got ripped. Not literally, but the judges who came in just totally destroyed my poster and in essence my spirit. Seeing the other beautiful posters done by the clearly more talented design students really humbled me. I think I didn't choose writing, maybe writing chose me. I mean, if you could see the work that surrounds me as I type this blog in class right now, you'd be astounded. They all look perfect to me and hearing the stories behind each one just flabbergasted me. We all really had 5 days to complete this poster, mine looks like it was done in 1 day, everyone else's looks like it was done over 2 or 3 months. They are that descriptive, that compelling, that effing awesome. I was never that great at concepting a design anyway, but it definitely showed in class today. But this is gonna be just as I suspected, a challenge. I'm always up for one. Fears and tears baby, that's what it's all about. This is what I'm paying this school for, because if I were just totally awesome at everything the school threw my way, I'd think it wasn't worth the money, the time, or the effort. I need to be taught things, different techniques, different ways to think about different things. I think like me and it's so obvious (at least to me) in every thing I do. Not that I don't want to be me anymore, but I want to open up my mind to new ideas, and teach my hands to execute thoroughly. Right now, I don't think my hand-mind coordination is up-to-par. At least not in comparison to my classmates. Don't worry, I'll get it. I'm just like that friend who gets your joke a couple days after you've told it; I'm late but eventually I do get it. I can never quite wrap my brain around making my thoughts visual without words. I'm a writer fish, in a design fish bowl.