Setting the Stage…
Already in our fourth or fifth trimester, we were ‘well-seasoned’ in the Art Center ways. We knew everyone well, there were no secrets. Everything was always ‘on-the-table’, literally and figuratively. We were hard working kids determined to always perform and show our best. Most everyday was ‘crit-day’ in one class or another. In the event there was no crit, we worked, and we worked in the shop or at home preparing for our next presentation and crit. There was no half-baked attempt to anything we presented. Those who half-baked their work had already been put on probation or was ‘kicked-out’ of Art Center. Life at Art Center was brutal, and we were always ready and willing to take whatever came to us. No one escaped the wrath of Art Center. We worked hard, we played hard. We helped one another with suggestions and home-crits. We lifted each other up in confidence and wanted everyone around us to succeed. We experienced Art Center together, and we loved it.

-What is that?
-That’s not your Final Model, right?
-It should look much better when it’s finished.

But it is finished. This is it!

-Maybe just don’t have a model, and go by your Presentation.

-Joe is not going to like that at all.
-Youngkin’s gonna rip it to shreds!
-I can hear it now “That model won’t buy you a dime’s worth young man, not a dime’s worth!“

Oh no, it’s gone from bad to worse! I don’t know how this could have happened! There is no more time left, our presentation and crit is tomorrow. I just wish tomorrow, now today is already over. Yikes…

Our project was to design a personal submarine. It would be small, and of course it better look very cool to stand with, or even above everyone else. Art Center was a competition with yourself. How will I show my design prowess, my reason for being a top designer in the Art Center world amongst every other student. Yes, models and presentations would be compared to the final design work from everyone else. The ‘competition’ wasn’t anything personal, it wasn’t to show that you were ‘better’ than anyone else, it was to show that you deserved to be at the same echelon of everyone else. That’s just how it was. Life at Art Center.

I don’t think anyone escapes the disaster of at least one project or presentation in the context of our eight trimesters. Know that fact, try to avoid that fact, and embrace yourself for the day it occurs. This was my day for disaster to unfold.

I shaped my rough model carefully from foam. That part was rather simple. My challenge arose as I attempted to cover the foam with spackle so that I could paint it in the paint booth. Any models’ surface was to be perfect. Your paint job needed to be perfect. There would be no visible flat spots on the form. Flat spots and surface flaws would easily be spotted with your perfect paint job. But every stage of the project needed to go right as planned. One flaw would spiral into a myriad of flaws that would be pointed out.

My spackle wouldn’t dry as fast as I needed it to dry. Mike told me about quick-drying spackle that I could use. This way I could coat the model, sand it to perfection, and then it would be ready to paint. I still had time…
This was my first time using quick-drying spackle. I was told that using that quick-drying spackle my dried surface would not respond the same as regular spackle, and that I needed to be careful with it.

I think in my panic-reaching state and my (now) rush to get it finished, my hand was too heavy during my sanding process. I created flat spots that would scream-out to the eye after it was painted. Ok, I needed the painted surface to at least look ‘nice’, and perfection was surrendered. I just needed to get through this impending disaster.

Bared foam marred the surface of my model and it was far from perfect. This final submarine model of mine was well below sub-par for what I should have produced. But here it was. Ugly, marred, replete with flat spots that became painfully visible with the lousy painting job I did on it. My model looked something like the old-fashioned bombs dropped from a plane as seen in a Roadrunner cartoon.

And everyone knew it, they saw it. I could hide nothing.

Confident in my abilities that weren’t at all visible in my final work, I stood in front of all my peers and presented my work in Youngkins’ class. And I knew I would have a ‘new one torn’ on me after he was finished with his crit.

The model and presentation could not be sugar-coated in its finished state. It just was. Irene even told me it was ugly.

-That is clearly the ugliest model you have ever made.

Yes Irene, it is. I could not refute her opinion.

I don’t remember how my presentation went, it couldn’t have gone well. Most likely I deleted the experience from memory in order to avoid lifelong trauma. Eeesh, this model could not be despised more. By this point, all I could do was laugh at it. Laugh and make jokes about the finished result along with all my Art Center pals.

Mockery of my poor craftsmanship was the best part of the experience. Later in the day, we tossed it around like a football. We played hackey-sack with it. We booted it like we were attempting a field goal. And the best part, one of our gang suggested we get in the car and drive over it in the back alley, and that is exactly what we did. That part was SO much fun. Clearly a video of that incident would be worthy of our modern-day social media postings.

That’s ok though. It gives me/us something to remember and look back on and still laugh about. Oh my goodness, those were wonderful days.