This is me,
Eliza Thornberry Louise Byng.
Having recently graduated from university, it'd be hard not to have some form of identity crisis. Without the label of 'student' to slap onto hangover days and without group projects to discuss forcibly and dwell upon I was shell-shocked to have suddenly moved away from Bournemouth and my creative counterparts, presented with a new kind of freedom. To get myself drawing again, and maybe think about what sort of illustrator I am to become outside of a driven academic environment, I encapsulated myself in an image.
As just one in a new crop of arts graduates it's mighty hard to feel
special, not to mention on a road to any kind of prosperity. Every article I read describes a downward slope from here, what with the depressing economic forecast and not only a lack of jobs, but also the idea that we all become unbearably unemployable and full of ourselves the moment we receive our degree certificates.
Admittedly I don't understand the ins and outs of what I'm going to do having left the 18-year-long comfort of education. Maybe none of us really do, but maybe that's the most exciting part. The creative industries constitute one of the fastest-growing sectors in the UK, and my course didn't leave me high and dry as to the realities of the importance of networking, pushing hard to be noticed and presenting ourselves professionally. The fact that we are equipped with self-motivation, innovation and bravery gives us a good chance to find our place within creative society and in turn shape it. Perhaps it will allow us to make our own futures, our own jobs, our own solutions. It certainly can't be a bloody bad thing.
Further reading:
Portrait of an art graduate, circa 2012 on The Guardian online.
