I finished my postgrad degree in History of Art almost 2 and a half years ago: I have been in near-constant employment since that time; have friends who work for some of the biggest tech, law and financial organisations in the world. And yet, in many ways, I feel as shiny new and clueless as a graduate fresh from university. It’s taken 2 and a half years to get into a leading arts institution in London (something I blithely estimated six months for); it’s taken two years to work out which friends are worth bothering with and which aren’t; two years to fall in love, have my first serious relationship and end up heartbroken; and two years to move out of my family home.
These are all stages and achievements which the majority of my friends and acquaintances seemed to attain miles ahead of me, and it is perhaps this obsessive and constant self-comparison that makes me feel as though I, newly moved into a houseshare and anointed at the RA at the grand old age of 24, am only just embarking on my life as an adult. These pages are really going to be describing nothing more than the life of an arts graduate in London.
Update August 2016
I am now the Curatorial Assistant at the National Portrait Gallery in London