Ay up luv, Leeds here!
It’s funny, coming from Finland you always kinda expect that whatever place you go to abroad is somehow going to be fancier. Let me tell you, that isn’t the case. England in general seems to be a country of scattered beautiful buildings, framed by blocky gray council estates and teenage mums having a fag (a cigarette, darling) outside Morrison’s (a cheapish supermarket with a lot of people in tracksuits).
(picture not taken by me, pinched off the web, I am not a photographer)
That isn’t to say that northern people aren’t lovely! They refer to you as my love, darling and other pet names. They are always sure to say excuse me if they bump into you, and try to be as polite as possible. All in all, they are quite wonderful, and a good time. It’s not their fault that all the money in the UK is in the south and they have been left to fend for themselves with limited job opportunities.
The teaching style in Leeds Beckett is quite different. I did make a choice to do the semester with the first years, because the courses seemed more interesting, but the difference in experience is quite harsh. I’m not claiming to be exceptionally talented but man, these kids have got a long way to being animators. Learning to draw would be the first step. Thankfully they have a course in live drawing that should do the trick, and the actual animating is quite fast-paced and forces you to be productive.
(“Tha looks proper 3D!” – classmate, obviously not noticing the massive feet and hands I gave our model Steve. Poor Steve.)
Animating is going well, although I’m struggling with producing anything remotely pleasing with the time they give me (a week for a animation, kill me), although to be fair I’ll be better because of it. TAMK has never really put such tight deadlines on me and sometimes I find it even harder to practice self discipline to do this stuff alone with no one pushing me.
What is the deal with full-carpet-floors. The standard of flats in Britain is god-awful. It’s always too damp and too cold, the light comes on from a string hanging from the ceiling and the hot and cold taps are separated (if hot water ever comes on, that is).
And what on god’s earth is a crisp sandwhich.
(being forced to model for class. not happy.)
Emmerdale lied to me about Yorkshire,