As I hurry to the subway with a heavy backpack on my back and a huge cardboard folder beneath my left arm, I suddenly get the feeling that I've been here before. Not in this city, not with this language in my mind, but with the same hurried step and the feeling of hurry, hurry, or you're going to be late.
Only now I don't have to worry about any assignment I haven't completed or not done in an entirely pleasing way. That kind of worrying is done by my students now, I only worry about how to teach them illustration.
After three weeks I already know whom I will worry about most. I already have a feeling whom I can push and who is afraid of even trying. Some students I will get along with fine, others are so different from me that we'll probably never find a ground for real communication. Life in a nutshell.
But as I go through the day with my different classes and different students, as I talk until my mouth is fuzzy and dry and I feel I've said the same thing ten times already, I remember how exhausting it was to be in their place. Because drawing and illustration is very much about seeing, and seeing properly takes a lot of concentration. I remember what it was like to feel absolutely drained after a drawing class.
And as I walk home in the evening I smile because now I know that it's the same for the illustration teachers. Getting of the subway, fighting with my cardboard folder now full of student work and walking home through familliar streets, I wish I could switch off the 'seeing', I wish I could just look at the chestnut tree in full bloom without trying to figure out how to draw it. It's like a lingering taste of the days work and I know that it will be gone tomorrow.
Turning the key and stepping over the threshold I'm glad I'm a professional already and don't have to be a student every day.