Fine artists, fabric designers, interior and spatial designers, product designers, sculptors, and loads of other creative heads. They were there. They made up Chelsea College of Art and Design. My uni. My haven for inspiration for at least 3 years of my life.
The cafeteria buzzed daily with the artistic jargon. The air was filled with imaginative murmurs. The halls were a sea of blueprints, canvases, photographs, man, you name it. This place breathed creativity. And we all lived in it, embraced it, and we all became it.
At the height of being engulfed in this creative world, I sometimes lost my breath. I sometimes lost my way. Sometimes when your only fuel is caffeine and your drive, you body tries to hang on but slips. Can you imagine being in a room where ideas are ricocheting of the walls? Can you just picture the overwhelming flow of energy between all these artists and designers? It was overpowering and amazing at the same time.
I became this person I had been searching for. It took a while but I found her with a little help from the little world I called Chelsea.
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