So this is it.
One major crisis averted, and now there's no turning back.
I'm going to Ireland. Next fall. (If it kills me.)
Deep breath.
I would like to be able to express all my anxieties right here on the page and leave them, and be done with them. I know that's not happening.
I know this is what I've wanted to do for the longest time.
It's just now that I know it's more than possible, that now I am in fact obligated to the program... that as long as I'm accepted, I'm going, that's it,
it's suddenly become... really scary thing to think about.
I mean, a whole semester. Three months. In another country. Knowing nobody. Never having traveled so far away before.
I think I'll be able to stave off my fears by reminding myself what an amazing adventure this is going to be.
Still I can't help being scared. I know I can handle it... but I'm still terrified to do so.
I'm constantly reminded of a famous English sculptor of the 1920s, Barbara Hepworth. She was an incredibly independent artist (especially for a woman of her time.)
I desperately wish I could emanate her confidence. Her confidence in herself and in her work.
But, of course, those were different times, when students were veritably forced to make a way for themselves, by themselves. Here and now, we are babied and supervised by virtually everyone.
Well, I suppose here's my chance to see just how much I can rely on my independent person. It'll develop, I'm sure. It'll develop along with the reason I'm doing this: for my art. I will be my own person, and I will comfortable and confident in her.
This will be an amazing journey.
(I might get to live in a cottage!)
