Sometimes Blue Period feels quite thematically alien for me as an utterly talentless artist.  But there are other times when it’s incredibly universal, and that dichotomy is one of the things that makes it so compelling.  It’s a character study and a very good one, but like so many series about any sort of art, it’s just as much a deconstruction of the creative process.  I always enjoy those “a-ha” moments when something that happens to Yatora resonates with me.  Creativity – like life – is a journey of many steps.  And while we each walk a unique path, sometimes the terrain can be very similar.

“Be more selfish” was not the sort of life advice you saw pop up in a lot of “Afterschool Specials” or PSAs.  But as I’ve navigated life I’ve found it’s more often a good policy than a bad one.  “That path is for your steps alone”, as the song goes – and you have to take ownership of it.  Selflessness is like patience in that it’s a good thing in principle, but applied in excess can lead to disastrous results.  And as good advice goes, it’s hard to do much better than “have fun” – which is almost as politically incorrect but no less elementally wise.

The problem for Yatora (whose stress rash has gotten even uglier) is the same as usual.  He’s living in a world of inexactness – the advice adults give children is hard enough to interpret and apply as is, but art is a vocation that defies specificity.  Cramming for an art exam is not like cramming for math or science, even if the place you go is still called a cram school.  There’s nothing to memorize except the way you felt when you were at your most expressive and free – and remembering that feeling is not the same as being able to recreate it.

Ooba-sensei is clearly a teacher any student preparing for exams should feel lucky to have, because she’s genuinely invested in seeing her charges succeed and not just performing a service for a paycheck.  She does her best to direct Yatora, telling him first to be more adaptable, then to be more self-centered.  From Yatora’s perspective he already is, but the truth is he’s as majime as it gets.  In addition to the way he always tries to do what’s expected of him, I believe overthinking is a major trip-wire for this kid.  He tries to game every assignment, figure out what’s expected (again, that side of him) rather than allow himself to naturally respond to the challenge in a manner true to himself.

In point of fact Yatora is right about one thing – deciding to throw over his expected path and pursue art is probably the most self-centered thing he’s ever done.  And not coincidentally probably the best – for once he was pursuing his own instincts rather than his supposed responsibilities.  In fact it proves such an inspiration to his pal Koi-chan that he decides to pursue a passion of his own – becoming a pastry chef (which is surely playing against type).  Seeing the impact his choice made on his friend is a sort of validation for Yatora – ironically, in that it’s by seeing how his being self-centered helped someone else that Yatora is able to justify it to himself.

As for the exam itself, Ooba-sensei springs an interesting revelation on the kids – that I suspect will not have been a surprise to Kuwana-san.  Only pencils and charcoal will likely (though it isn’t a surefire rule) will be allowed in the first phase.  But she also lets them know that in effect, they can cheat as long as they aren’t too obvious or intrusive about it – by smuggling in powder to use in their compositions.  Kuwana-san has already prepared for this in fact, but Yaguchi declines – reasoning that being terrified of disqualification would likely render him artistically impotent in the heat of the moment.  Man, this stuff is complicated.

As someone who couldn’t even draw a bath, the idea of coming up with something on command that has your whole future riding on it seems comically improbable to me.  But for these boys and girls (and women and men too, in some cases) that’s the reality.  Yotasuke runs into Yatora on the day and is his usual social animal self.  He doesn’t see Ryuji but they’re present too – and in an odd twist, Ryuji draws a giant “X” on their easel (I assume this is a self-portrait exam too) and walks out.  I don’t know much about art, but that doesn’t express a healthy self-esteem to me.