Finally, a normal week: I'm all caught up on my history readings, no one I know died (though I'm still a bit sad that I'll never see or hug Stan again--I think it'll take me longer than usual to truly recover from his death and what I felt, which, given the huge mark that he left on my life, isn't surprising). As a result, this post is about half the length of my last post.
Monday: This week's class was one that came with a warning, as it was about the residential schools. Some of what was talked about was stuff that I knew already, but some of it was new to me. It was still heartbreaking, though.
Tuesday: After class, I spent the day writing a response paper for Contemporary Indigenous Arts, which Carla had assigned in response to Monday's class.
Wednesday: I started writing one of the five response papers for Contemporary Indigenous Arts that I have to write throughout the semester (at least two before midterms and at least two after--if we do more than six, our final grade will be determined by the six best papers).
Thursday: In between classes I put up a notice saying that I'm looking for models for my independent project. That afternoon, we met at the Mount Saint Vincent University Art Gallery to view their current show--which Survey of Twentieth-Century Art will be going to see as well.
Friday: A friend who had a show at the Anna Leonowens Gallery this week, Beck, had asked for better installation photos (they'd taken a few with a camera phone). I volunteered and spent some time in Gallery 3 (the Anna is split into three galleries, Gallery 3 being hidden around a corner and down a flight of stairs). The show is awesome. From the gallery's website: "I FEEL GOOD is a collaboration between Beck Gilmer-Osborne and their brother Mat Osborne that investigates the complicated nature of personal narratives and the multiple social constructs of masculinity. In their latest video and sculpture work Beck is interested in exploring non-verbal modes of communication and gender performativity. Their installation will reflect the shortcomings of traditional gender narratives, and the tension that exists between siblings who have been and continue to be socialized in radically different ways." Because there is very little light in the gallery due to all the windows being blocked as part of the show, photographing said show was a challenge. In a situation like that, autofocus is useless. I normally suck at manual focus, but I knew that I could zoom in on the image while in live view using the camera's zoom button, which allowed me to focus much more accurately. Shoot = saved. Most of the images came close to being tack-sharp. Thank you, modern technology!
I spent the rest of the day writing for Contemporary Indigenous Arts.
Saturday: Once again, I spent the day writing.
Sunday: At about 5:00 AM, the smoke alarm went off in my building, waking me up from a deep sleep. I grabbed my shoes, pointed wordlessly to where one of my roommate's cats had gone when said roommate asked, as I was barely awake and couldn't string together a proper sentence, let alone think one, and pounded down way too many flights of stairs (I live in a high-rise building). I only put my shoes on when I got to the lobby. Turns out, the thing that set off the alarm wasn't in the building: some people had set off fireworks outside and that somehow triggered the alarm. I never truly woke up during the whole adventure, and when my roommate and I finally got back to the apartment, I went straight to my room and back to bed. I think I fell asleep within seconds of my head hitting the pillow. When I think back on it, the whole thing feels like a dream, though I know that yes, it did happen.
When I finally woke up for the second time, I spent the day at school, editing the stuff that's due tomorrow, printing it off and reading the stuff for Twentieth-Century Art.
I found this today, and some of it speaks to what I just went through (see #10). Some of it is just plain awesome--which isn't surprising because it's Mister Rogers quotes. I grew up watching his show, and once a fan always a fan.