I had one of my recurring dreams last night. I was visiting the big, open arts building at Hampshire, the "art barn" where all of the student studios are. Space is allocated according to seniority and stand-alone plywood walls are moved at the beginning of each semester to form a number of large and small spaces. In my dream I walk into the building and I don't know any of the students there, and I realize that I haven't been spending any time working in my studio. I go looking for my studio, but it's been absorbed and reallocated and I find my artwork and supplies moved to a couple of shelves in a common area meant for second-year students. Because I didn't show up enough, they've given my regular studio space away (a common threat while I was there, as studio space was too valuable to go unused) and I have annoyed the serious art students with my lack of commitment.

Often this dream end with me sort of wandering around campus feeling lost. It's clear that it's about me leaving my "serious" art behind. I stopped using my favorite media, steel and plaster, after I left school because I have nowhere to set up a welding station. That's not the only reason, though. I guess I just lost my conviction that what I was creating - abstract, somewhat large, organic-looking shapes made of industrial, every-day materials - was worth taking up space in the world. I became practical. The stuff I make now would never have flown at Hampshire. They're too "decorative" and "precious." Not to mention "small." I could have probably made a case for preciousness being something to embrace if you can do it justice, but I didn't really know what I was doing back then. I still like the things I made at school, but I don't know if I could go back to making them now. I feel sometimes like I let everyone down. My major in college has turned into a hobby. It makes me sick just to type that.

At the same time, ever since I was a young kid I've wanted to make cool, unique, complex objects and sell them. So in a way I am following a planned path; the things I make now have a wide appeal and, frankly, they're things I would buy (if I was a little wealthier). I try to be content, but still these dreams come and haunt me. ...