As Mekki will confirm, I have this eccentric and very odd fetish for paperwork. I love doing my taxes, and sorting records and filling in the little boxes under surname G_E_L_B_A_R_D and matching my handwriting to the appropriateness and atmosphere/character of the form. But I swear, the amount of paperwork for gradschools is enough to turn even me off of filling in forms.
Now I understand why there are 60 students in fourth year and only 30 in first year masters. It's a conspiracy. A way to weed out the week. They papercut you to death, well 50% of you, with the applications for everything under the sun. Oh and lets do this during the busiest time of your bachelor degree.
A vicious cycle. I need to focus on the applications to make sure they are complete, on time and have amazing portfolios, so that I will be accepted. To get those wowing grades and jaw-dropping portfolio, I need to focus on school. But if I focus on school, I have no time for the applications. And if I don't focus on the application...
Pour avoir des noix de coco, des noix de coco, des noix de coco
Pour avoir des noix de coco
Il faut secouer le cocotier, cocotiere
Pour secouer le cocotier, le cocotier, le cocotier
Pour secouer le cocotier
Il faut avoir les bras musclé, bras musclé
Pour avoir les bras musclés, les bras musclés, les bras musclés
Pour avoir les bras musclés
Il faut avoir du lait de coco, lait de coco
Pour avoir du lait de coco, du lait de coco, du lait de coco
Pour avoir du lait de coco
Il faut avoir des noix de coco, noix de coco.
(I like this better than the song that never ends. Ah yes French Elementary School.)
Then there are the ridiculous letters of recommendations. First of all, how many undergrads have two or three professors that even know their name? Things are a bit different in architecture. Much more personal size classes. But I still can't think of a professor that really knows me and what I am capable of. Can I revert back to the references from High School teachers. They gave me permission to copy and forge signatures as needed.
Actually, there is Tom. He doesn't know my name but he knows my work. I can fill in my own name. But Tom is a special case. I need to catch him on a good day. Probably one where he comes into school bragging about having killed a squirrel in his backyard. Even though the neighbours won't let him shoot them anymore. He's usually in a good mood on those days. In a group conference on the matter, which I initiated, we outlined the risks of having Tom write a letter of recommendation. The obvious fact of him not knowing anyone's name or caring. His unpredictable nature. His loathe for bureaucracy and loving any chance to spit in its face. We agreed that for those who are absolutely confident that he approves of their work, we decided he would likely write an incredibly flattering letter, however, what might be implied about whatever school the letter is going to is another matter. I think the letter would go something like this...
You f***ing B******* who don't know S*** about architecture, of course you won't accept Sarah into your programs because your heads are so F***ing lodged up your a**** that you won't be able to recognize her f***ing brilliance. She knows what's she's doing, she doesn't need your uptight pretentious ramblings. Show me don't tell me. Show me don't tell me. Look at Frank Lloyd Wright, Richard Meyer and Le Grand Maitre, Le Corbusier and then tell me about architecture. You just sit on your fat white a**** all day. If you could do architecture, you would do it, not teach it. H*** I only teach because I always get fired from my architecture jobs. Haha! F*** you ask an atheist to design your church, what the f*** do you expect. No really, I hate all religions equally. Bah, this young lady should be in art school anyways so f*** you. I'll write her a reference letter for that. Her studio could suck and I'd pass her for her life drawing only. That girl can draw and she knows her s***. Try not to screw it up. Thank you.
I may have tamed that down a bit I think. But I like Tom. With brutual honesty like that, you don't have to play all the stupid games you have to play with everyone else. His deadlines are deadlines and his requirements are the requirements. He appreciates craft and couldn't care less what after the fact justifications you can conjure up for a crit. You get two minutes to speak. If you can't say it, and more importantly, your models and drawings can't say it in that time, then it's not really there.
Yes, I'm a bit stressed out.
