I Turned in My Sketchbook—Then Got Sent to Counseling
Back in the spring of 2017, I was taking a drawing class required for the Art & Technology major I was pursuing. One of our major assignments was to fill an entire sketchbook by the end of the term. Around that time, I was really into George Condo — the artist behind Kanye’s My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy cover. Even though that album came out in 2010, my interest in Condo reignited when I discovered his piece Female Portrait Composition (2008, oil on canvas) was on display at the Jordan Schnitzer Museum of Art on campus. His work often explores themes of dehumanization, and I tried to mimic that style throughout my sketchbook.
Apparently, my teacher wasn’t familiar with Condo’s work and didn’t quite get what I was going for.
To top it off, I came down with the flu right at the end of the term. On the final day of class, I dropped off my sketchbook, told my professor I wasn’t feeling well, and headed home. I crashed hard—slept for several hours—and when I woke up, I saw a missed call. I checked my voicemail and... yeah, it was a very concerned message.
“Hi Aaron this is Lori at the office of the dean of students. I’m calling because we have faculty that are concerned about you. If you could please give me a call back immediately... If I don’t receive a call back from you immediately um we will still be concerned and um we’ll need to check in with UOPD. So if you can give me a call back in the next five minutes so you got this and we can chat that would be great!”
I called Lori back to clear things up, but she still made me attend a mandatory counseling session. I explained to her that it was just a big misunderstanding— I wasn’t depressed or suicidal, just sick and really into some pretty intense art at the time.
I never did get that sketchbook back. It probably ended up in some file or storage box labeled with my name, forever misunderstood. But looking back, it’s kind of funny how a class assignment, a fever, and a little too much George Condo ended up spiraling into a wellness check. Sometimes art imitates life—and sometimes life overreacts to art.