Monday, February 6, 2012

happiness is going home

I went home for the weekend, and I couldn't have been happier--unless the Patriots had won the Super Bowl.

Monday: I submitted my ArtsNB scholarship application before class.

This past week, we started another assignment (we collected images last week), and spent most of the class working on it. For me, that meant making transfers. Let's just say that although transfer pens are easy to use, and produce great results, those things stink! **cough-cough**

Tuesday: Yay for 3D! In Photoshop, that is. Just when I start to wonder, "is there anything new and exciting that Drew can throw at us?," it turns out that there is! I've been curious about doing 3D in Photoshop for a few years, and now I got to actually try it out. Mind: blown.

As for Still to Motion, we were given our first "go out and shoot some video" assignment: fifteen to twenty clips, any length, and with good audio. Which means not using the built-in mic on the camera. Those little things are okay, but you really want to have good audio--so external mics it is!

That day, I got an email from NSCAD, saying that "the following items are still required to make your application complete." The "items" in question were transcripts. They didn't specify which ones, but as my post-secondary transcript was sent directly from NBCCD by the registrar about a week-and-a-half before the deadline, I knew that it was my lack of a high school transcript that was driving the university up the wall. So I emailed them, explaining the situation.

Wednesday: Field trip! Karen took us to Gallery Connexion, which is "Fredericton's only artist-run center." They show a lot of work that most other galleries won't show: "From its inception in 1984, Gallery Connexion has supported politically and socially engaged art through a range of programming initiatives such as exhibitions, performances, special projects, and workshops." The current show is Tokyo Hotel Story, which is a photography show that was shot in one of the "S&M 'love hotels'" in that city. The photos were all shot on film, and the photographer, Nathalie Daoust, manipulated them in the darkroom to change the colours.

Although I liked my research class right from the start, I'm really starting to love it. I'm getting to fill in what I see as gaps in my education, like model releases and alternatives to printing out my photos and sticking them in an Itoya portfolio (although those portfolios are gorgeous and a hard-copy portfolio is very professional, sometimes I don't want or need to present a physical version). And Drew's going to show us some of his research techniques this week!

Another thing that I love about that course is because everyone's working on something different, we get to share what we've learned not only with Drew, but with each other. And it's all practical stuff, like figuring out what the best printer for your purposes/budget is, the ins and outs of work for hire, etc.

Thursday: We finally got to see what everyone has been up to in the last few weeks. Although I didn't have anything to present, I still talked a bit about my project. I wanted my classmates to know what I'm up to. And I didn't want to feel left out, as everyone else was talking about their projects and showing some of the photos they shot for said projects.

As I was headed home that day, I asked Peter for an early appointment--he gave me the first one of the afternoon. As soon as I sat down, he nailed me for not backing up my stuff, as even the hardiest hard drive (I have a LaCie Rugged) can fail. I have to admit that I felt a bit like when I get in trouble with my parents (which doesn't happen very often): the height of uncomfortableness. Ouch. Starting this week, I'm going to get into the habit of tossing my RAW files and school assignments on my school computer account, as those are the most important files on my external hard drive. Eventually I'll get a second external and use it for Time Machine.

As usual, Mom met me in the studio, and we stopped at my place to grab my stuff before heading home.

We talked politics most of the way, specifically Bill C-11 (Copyright Act). Neither of us likes Harper, though Mom's views are centrist, and mine are fairly far-left. I also read a lot more politics news--which meant that she got a crash-course in Harper's latest bit of mischief.

Friday: And as usual, I wasn't fully unpacked and ready for the weekend until the day after I arrived home.

I called NSCAD late that morning: turns out, they waived the requirement for a high school transcript for me. **phew!** That makes my life a lot easier, as I don't have to fight NSCAD.

I spent the rest of the day working on homework, and then I skyped with Helen that evening (we talked about writing, as I considered doing a Bachelor of Arts in Creative Writing. I decided not to, as I'd have to start all the way back in first year again). Helen always tells me to say "hi" to my parents for her, but as I was home this weekend, Helen got to say "hi" to them for real.

Saturday: Tom and I planned to shoot my Still to Motion assignment that morning, but the wind was picking up, even at 7:30, so we postponed the shoot until Sunday. And I went back to bed.

When I got up again, I worked on my independent-study project for Peter's class, and I spent an hour or two trying to get the plug-ins that I downloaded a few days ago from Adobe's website to work. DRRRREEEEEEWWWWWW!! HELP!

As usual, I listened to the opera--and that opera deserves a paragraph or three of gushing.

This week, the Met performed Anna Bolena, which is the same opera that opened the current season, and that I saw in the movie theatre back in October. Those two other times that I listened to/watched it, I felt that Anna Netrebko was holding back, vocally. Her voice sounded like it kept skidding into a brick wall, and that she could've given her singing more power--that brick wall shouldn't have been there. Though to be fair, the title role of that opera is an extremely difficult one, as it calls for a lot of singing in the chest register, and that singing is very loud.

However, I didn't hear that in her voice on Saturday: she sang it exactly as I wished she had four or five months ago. Her voice sounded very free, like she was giving herself permission to finally go all-out.

During the opera, I had a few moments where I knew I was hearing something special. And I, too, wanted to shout, "brava!" (which some members of the audience did) a couple times. After the performance ended, I kept thinking, "wow!," and I couldn't help sharing my happiness with Mom and Tom. Though, as I listened to the opera on my earbuds, they missed out on a performance that I will probably look back on as one of the best that I've ever heard.

That day, I published a blog-post inspired by Mom's and my conversation on Thursday, which you can read here. Don't mess with me, Harper!

Sunday: I finally shot my Still to Motion assignment! It took all day, but hopefully it was worth it.

I also finished my Imagery homework, and worked on my homework for Peter's class, which I'd been working on all weekend.

As my family hasn't had satellite TV for a couple years, Tom and I caught Super Bowl updates online, using the Guardian's live-blog page. I wasn't thrilled about the Patriots losing (21 - 17). Oh, well--there's always next year...

2 comments:

  1. I believe the most effective protest, short of going and sitting on your MP's desk, is to hand write very brief and succinct comments frequently. Emails are ignored and suspected of being pushed by a third party. Get a bunch of stiff paper cut to postcard size, pre-address many of them to Harper and your MP, and whenever you feel a rant coming on summarize it succinctly and drop it in the postbox. All mail to Federal government goes free. Do it often and perhaps we'll wear little holes in their armour. At least we go down unquietly!

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    Replies
    1. Good idea! I do sign petitions (which is also an effective way of getting an organization/company/government to listen to us normal people), but your way is more direct.

      I refuse to go down without a fight.

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