On critiques and divine retribution for papal humour

Hooray for stress-related skin problems! The skin on my knuckles and fingers has, for reasons unknown, turned bright red, and my hand has started to feel like it's on fire, which I'm currently freaked out by.

Pictured: Fun times and nail polish that just doesn't want to give up.

Is it stress though? Maybe it's karma for deciding to both not show up in school until after first recess, and deciding to leave as soon as my presentation was done at 2.30 to go home and get some well-deserved shut-eye. I did only sleep for three hours after falling through the door at 4 a.m. like a drunk person (only significantly less fun). Perhaps it's like when people say your palms will get hairy if you masturbate, only it's not true and instead you get fiery dermatological death. Or is it divine punishment because I made fun of the pope? Because I said we should have a Pope Party to celebrate the election of the new one (who's, shock horror!, a white elderly man who's opposed of gay marriage, abortion and women's rights. Damn, Catholic church, I know your rap by now. Surprise me.), and everyone should dress in red shoes (preferably Prada), funny hats, drink sacramental wine and eat crucifix cookies? Because to me that sounded like an awesome idea.

I must be jealous of all the bitching hats they get to wear.

So yeah, about today's mid-term critique.

I really hate critiques, good or bad - not because of the critique itself, but because it's you, standing alone in front of your work like some kind of human shield, in front of like 25 people. It's scary. Yes, it's only for 25 measly minutes, but it's still enough to fill me with a near-ridiculous amount of anxiety (even if my zombie-like brain put a bit of a filter over it. Sleep deprivation will do that to you. My brain was freaking out at the same pace as a sloth crosses the road). I have horrible stage fright. I stutter and slur, get frustrated and forget what I was going to say. It makes me feel like an idiot. Putting my thought process on display makes me feel really vulnerable too. That being said, no matter how I feel about it, people will critique me all through my working career. It's something I'll have to get used to (and I'm far better now than I was when I first started), but for now, standing in front of people I feel like I'm thrown to the wolves.

Try keeping your calm explaining constructive systems to this.

I tend to be confident about what I do when it's anonymous or I at least don't have to physically speak for it. I want my idea to speak for itself and the plans to tell the entire story to anyone who looks at them, without me having to open my mouth and explain. You look out at the people around you (bored, listless students who probably want nothing more than to go home), and your head goes "Like what I do! Please!", and you feel a bit like an abandoned puppy. I want people to like what I do, because I work hard on it. The ink it's printed on is my blood, sweat and tears. And yes, I bleed, sweat and cry black ink. All architects do.

All that being said, today went really rather well. The person in charge of passing my entire project swung by my critique to listen and ask questions, which of course was scary in and of itself, but at the same time it felt pretty good. Jesús is a completely harmless man with a very strong Spanish accent and a lot of enthusiasm, so I think it's hard to be scared of him for any period of time. He (and to a certain extent the other teachers) seemed to think I was on the right track, and apart from some kinks to be ironed out (which, let's face it - there always are. It's just a mid-term critique after all), I'd come far. I talked to Jesús after the presentation was over, and he gave me some reference projects to look at and told me that I'm well on my way and that my project seemed very good, which made me really happy. Someone else's enthusiasm for something you do feels so great. And when I told him that I'd been stuck and not been able to produce anything worthwhile until Monday he said it was completely normal and that I should be very happy with where I was.

The end of every presentation ever.

Feels good, man.