First Post!

Well... I guess since I'm an art student now it wouldn't be right if I didn't have a blog. I think there's a rule in the handbook or something. Anyway, if anyone actually reads this they will pretty much just be updated on the awesome and crazy adventures one would experience as an art student in Atlanta, Georgia. Boring, maybe... I guess it depends on if I can make everyday life seem entertaining somehow. I think since I'm somewhat observant I might be able to find enough material to make life a little more fun. 

Art school is an interesting place. Especially in a city that isn't really known for its artistic culture. I mean you  have New York which is pretty artistic, and Chicago which is arguably one of the most culturally artistic cities in the U.S... and then you have Atlanta, which is known for its.. rap music and tricked out cars? So unless you count chrome "reehimz" and underglow as an art form, you may be somewhat disappointed. 

The Art Institute down here is one of the most diverse places I've ever been. There are 3,800 students and out of those 3,800 there are 31 countries represented, as well as all 50 states. If you imagined that a classroom of 25 kids with those sort of statistics looks a bit like what would happen if every animal in the kingdom were allowed to mate and have children and then you threw them all in some sort of weird racially retarded zoo, you were right. That's exactly what it looks like. Not necessarily because the students are all diverse... but mostly because they all have facial piercings and colored hair on top of that diversity. 

And then there's the 5th floor. The 5th floor at the Art Institute of Atlanta is the culinary floor, or as I will refer to it, the oompa loompa floor. This is where the school decided to throw all of the random gen-eds as well, so all majors other than culinary students very rarely venture up there. When you enter the 5th floor, it's like walking into a different world. Every culinary student wears a white frock and a chef hat every day to class. When you walk off of the elevator, it's sort of like walking into some quarantined area where everyone is wearing a hazmat suit except you. So why oompa loompas? Well... I love culinary students. I have considered being a chef myself actually, but it is a well-known fact (or at least common logic) that culinary students like to eat, and therefore tend to be overweight. This holds true at the Art Institute. So imagine, when walking to your gen ed class, you walk into a racially retarded zoo of overweight people in long white coats and chef hats. Welcome to Art School.