The End is officially here.
Monday: One season ends, the program for another is announced--gosh, you're fast, BSO! And although I can get ridiculously excited about that orchestra (see my previous post and that insanely long paragraph on Sunday--according to the Bangor Daily News, that was "the first time in more than five years" that the BSO had a full house), in my almost-ten years(!) of being a fan (the anniversary's next month), I've never been this excited. Next season, the orchestra will be playing many of my favourite pieces--now I really wish I could go to a concert (or five). Again, why, BSO?! As if that isn't enough, their YouTube video announcing the season is possibly the most exciting one yet (and yes I'm biased). I am more proud than ever to be a fan of the Bangor Symphony Orchestra. Also, it's a good thing that I don't plan on going to the first concert because I'd have exert a lot of self-control--otherwise I'd be dancing down the aisle, probably ending up in front of the violin section (it's all about the violins).
Because I'm so excited, I made a YouTube playlist of my favourite works that the orchestra will be performing (in chronological order). Enjoy. I listened to the playlist a lot this week.
Also from the BDN review: "Not only was every seat full, but every inch of space on the Collins Center for the Arts stage was taken up--by nearly 100 singers with the University Singers, the Oratorio Society and the Bangor Area Children’s Choir, and an orchestra full to bursting with extra percussionists, keyboardists and other musicians rounding out its ranks." Looks like you've got competition, Wagner (he liked big orchestras)!
That day was also my final class. Instead of meeting in our usual classroom, we met in the Split Crow Pub that's also in the Historic Properties buildings, where the Granville Campus is located. However, I thought we were meeting in said classroom and headed up there, only to find the door locked and the lights off. I tried checking my school email, but it was on the fritz (what's new?). I met a classmate who also didn't know what was going on--though she'd heard something about meeting at the pub, so we headed over--and there was the rest of the class! I handed in my final for that class even though it wasn't due until Wednesday because it was originally due on Monday--until Carla changed the due date, though the original deadline was firmly stuck in my head by that point. However, having it done a couple days early meant that I could focus completely on my final for Topics in Modern Canadian Art.
And although I planned to focus on that last final Monday, I ended up not doing a whole lot: making the above playlist was about as productive as I got, post-last class. Then again, I've gotten pretty good at banging out a thousand or more words in a day or two--NSCAD has done wonders to improve the speed of my essay writing (NSCAD has you write longer essays than NBCCD does--even at the first-year level).
Tuesday: I had my final appointment with Joan, and this time we met at Dal, where's she's based. Unlike the room where she meets with students at NSCAD, her office at Dal has a huge window, which means that said office gets lots of sun on days like Tuesday (sunny and +19˚C according to the thermometer at the IWK building that I passed on my way to NSCAD).
I spent the rest of the day churning out the first of two essays for my Topics in Modern Canadian Art final. Mom arrived, and I was surprised when I saw her walk into the computer lab at NSCAD, where I was, as I'd planned to meet her in the lobby, the Granville Campus being a bit of a maze (though Photo isn't too difficult to find).
Wednesday: Once again, I spent the day feverishly churning out the finals for Topics in Modern Canadian Art, and finished the last one late that night. They also happened to be my final projects for my degree, and I was more than happy to be done.
Thursday: I had to hand in my finals, so Mom and I went to the school, where I took care of those tasks (printing off the papers, stapling them and handing them in) and said good-bye to the techs (and got a hug from Alex), thanking them for all the support this year. It was nice knowing that I could come to the photo dept. and be safe from the abuse that I was dealing with.
Afterward, we went back to the apartment and packed almost everything in an hour or two. I always find packing stressful, but this time it went really smoothly.
Friday: I was up at 7:00 AM and we finished packing. Mom had a run-in with the person who's made my life hell this year--but Mom had a strength in her that I never had this year and she firmly told that person to "stop." Well done, Mom! After packing the last of the stuff into the car (as I said in my homecoming email to Lynn, "by some miracle, everything fit") and returning my keys, we drove home, stopping at Starbucks for breakfast and coffee. I drove a little ways, until my eyes started to droop too much.
When I got home, I erupted with shrieks and yells: I was safe. I spent the rest of the evening relaxing.
Saturday: I was still very tired from the previous day and, although I wanted to do something (like study the Nutcracker score), I didn't have the energy. I didn't even listen to the opera (R. Strauss' Arabella).
Sunday: I've finally started to regain my energy and do some stuff related to unpacking.
---
With this, my college/university career comes to a close, as does this blog. I will still write when I have something to say, but unless I go back for another degree, it will no longer be used as a place to write about school.
I think this calls for some more awesome music as a send-off, and I can't think of anything better than the Finale and Apotheosis from my favourite ballet, The Nutcracker. Enjoy, and thank you for following my adventures these last five years.
Sunday, April 20, 2014
Monday, April 14, 2014
Bangor Symphony, why must you be so awesome?!
This will be my final post as a college or university student: the next time I write, I will be home cuddling cats, hanging out with my parents and healing from a brutal final year. This blog will continue, though I have yet to figure out what sort of form it will take.
Also, I can never pass up an opportunity to gush about the Bangor Symphony Orchestra. Brace yourself.
Monday: This was one of those field-trip classes: we met at the Dalhousie Art Gallery to view that part of Beat Nation, which is a show that has been toured around, having originated in Vancouver. It's so big that it's normal for the show to be split between two galleries--in this case, the Dal Art Gallery and the Saint Mary's University Art Gallery. The show is about First Nations peoples and hip-hop, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.
That day was so warm that I took my coat off on the walk back to NSCAD--and treated myself to a gelato at Humani-T Café (they have some of the best gelato that I've had outside of Italy).
Tuesday: Exam Day for Twentieth Century Art. To quote an email to Lynn, "I wrote more than last time (not writing enough was one of the things that led to me getting a D on the midterm), I tried to make my definitions as thorough as possible (another thing that set me back last time), and overall I'm happy. I've done my best. Since my appointment with Joan, I haven't done much that would qualify as work [...]--and nothing that would qualify as schoolwork (I plan to do some work on my independent project this evening, as it needs attention and most of the time I enjoy editing photos), which feels weird. Though both Kathryn--a family friend who lives in England--and Mom said in comments on Facebook to take a break."
Wednesday: I took that day slowly as well, but managed to do some work on my independent project.
Thursday: Being able to sleep in that morning felt weird (I can sleep in? Great! But are you sure about that? Positive?). During the afternoon class I found out that that was my penultimate university class: with the exception of the last Contemporary Indigenous Arts class, there's nothing this coming week--all we have to do for Topics in Modern Canadian Art is drop off our finals to Ken Rice's office, which is a minute or less from the Photo Dept.
Friday: I spent the day working on my final for Contemporary Indigenous Arts and checked out Reel Injun from the Visual Resources Collection, as I'm doing one of my final papers for that class on the film that had the deepest impact on me, and that one was the first that came to mind.
Saturday: I got a very late start to the day--and I wasn't thrilled about that, as I had finals to write for Monday. However, I did get a fair amount of stuff done, including finishing the gallery review and starting work on the paper about Reel Injun. Bonus: I got to watch the movie while I wrote (I had to pause it every now and then to write things down as they occurred to me)!
I didn't realize that the BSO had a concert coming up on Sunday until I saw this photo. Go violins! Even better: the orchestra would be playing to a full house--exactly what the BSO deserves, especially when performing Carmina Burana, which is a very powerful, knock-your-socks-off piece. Mozart's thirty-fifth symphony (the Haffner) was also on the program (it was the first half of said concert), a fact that I'd completely forgotten. But is it any wonder, given how much of a show-stopper Carmina is?
I love how the audience erupts in applause at the end. And who can blame them? They've been holding it in for just over an hour!
Sunday: Carmina Burana Day. I listened to part of it as I walked to school, and, for the first time ever, zeroed in on the violin part. Usually I take the orchestration for that work as a whole, not focusing on a specific instrument--but because I knew a couple of people (Lynn and Trond) who would be playing it about two hours after said walk to school, I focused on what they would be playing. Verdict: the violin part alone is impressive. July sixteenth, when that concert will be broadcast on MPBN radio, can't come soon enough. After finishing Reel Injun, I listened to the Mozart, which, at about twenty minutes, is incredibly short for a symphony. It's the exact opposite of the Orff in that it's very tame. As I wrote in a Facebook status update, the Haffner "[allows] the Bangor Symphony Orchestra to give it their all in knocking the audience's socks off with the Orff. Brilliant. To whoever chose the music for today's concert, well done!" How I wish I could've gone to the concert--if I were going to school in the Bangor/Orono area, I definitely would've gone, especially if I were a student at the University of Maine (the orchestra's home, the Collins Center for the Arts, is on the UMaine campus). Blow off studying for finals for two hours and get my socks knocked off by the BSO in the process--wonderful (double that when you add in the strong violin part in the Orff and the BSO's violin section's habit of taking an awesome violin part up a few notches). Bonus: student tickets (you have to be a full-time student) are USD$13, including the $3 processing fee that's applied to all tickets--and, unlike regular-priced tickets, student tickets are the same price no matter where you sit. Wonderful! I'm so jealous of students in the Bangor/Orono area right now. How I wish I could've gone. Bangor Symphony, why must you do this to me? Why?!
Okay, I think that's enough gushing about the BSO. **scoffs jokingly** Typical favourite orchestras and violinists. Bangor Symphony Orchestra, I love you--and I can't wait to hear today's concert on MPBN on July sixteenth (START THE COUNTDOWN!). Go violins!
In the midst of all this BSO-induced excitement (which is all in a day's work for me), I wrote my final essays for Contemporary Indigenous Arts.
Also, I can never pass up an opportunity to gush about the Bangor Symphony Orchestra. Brace yourself.
Monday: This was one of those field-trip classes: we met at the Dalhousie Art Gallery to view that part of Beat Nation, which is a show that has been toured around, having originated in Vancouver. It's so big that it's normal for the show to be split between two galleries--in this case, the Dal Art Gallery and the Saint Mary's University Art Gallery. The show is about First Nations peoples and hip-hop, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.
That day was so warm that I took my coat off on the walk back to NSCAD--and treated myself to a gelato at Humani-T Café (they have some of the best gelato that I've had outside of Italy).
Tuesday: Exam Day for Twentieth Century Art. To quote an email to Lynn, "I wrote more than last time (not writing enough was one of the things that led to me getting a D on the midterm), I tried to make my definitions as thorough as possible (another thing that set me back last time), and overall I'm happy. I've done my best. Since my appointment with Joan, I haven't done much that would qualify as work [...]--and nothing that would qualify as schoolwork (I plan to do some work on my independent project this evening, as it needs attention and most of the time I enjoy editing photos), which feels weird. Though both Kathryn--a family friend who lives in England--and Mom said in comments on Facebook to take a break."
Wednesday: I took that day slowly as well, but managed to do some work on my independent project.
Thursday: Being able to sleep in that morning felt weird (I can sleep in? Great! But are you sure about that? Positive?). During the afternoon class I found out that that was my penultimate university class: with the exception of the last Contemporary Indigenous Arts class, there's nothing this coming week--all we have to do for Topics in Modern Canadian Art is drop off our finals to Ken Rice's office, which is a minute or less from the Photo Dept.
Friday: I spent the day working on my final for Contemporary Indigenous Arts and checked out Reel Injun from the Visual Resources Collection, as I'm doing one of my final papers for that class on the film that had the deepest impact on me, and that one was the first that came to mind.
Saturday: I got a very late start to the day--and I wasn't thrilled about that, as I had finals to write for Monday. However, I did get a fair amount of stuff done, including finishing the gallery review and starting work on the paper about Reel Injun. Bonus: I got to watch the movie while I wrote (I had to pause it every now and then to write things down as they occurred to me)!
I didn't realize that the BSO had a concert coming up on Sunday until I saw this photo. Go violins! Even better: the orchestra would be playing to a full house--exactly what the BSO deserves, especially when performing Carmina Burana, which is a very powerful, knock-your-socks-off piece. Mozart's thirty-fifth symphony (the Haffner) was also on the program (it was the first half of said concert), a fact that I'd completely forgotten. But is it any wonder, given how much of a show-stopper Carmina is?
I love how the audience erupts in applause at the end. And who can blame them? They've been holding it in for just over an hour!
Sunday: Carmina Burana Day. I listened to part of it as I walked to school, and, for the first time ever, zeroed in on the violin part. Usually I take the orchestration for that work as a whole, not focusing on a specific instrument--but because I knew a couple of people (Lynn and Trond) who would be playing it about two hours after said walk to school, I focused on what they would be playing. Verdict: the violin part alone is impressive. July sixteenth, when that concert will be broadcast on MPBN radio, can't come soon enough. After finishing Reel Injun, I listened to the Mozart, which, at about twenty minutes, is incredibly short for a symphony. It's the exact opposite of the Orff in that it's very tame. As I wrote in a Facebook status update, the Haffner "[allows] the Bangor Symphony Orchestra to give it their all in knocking the audience's socks off with the Orff. Brilliant. To whoever chose the music for today's concert, well done!" How I wish I could've gone to the concert--if I were going to school in the Bangor/Orono area, I definitely would've gone, especially if I were a student at the University of Maine (the orchestra's home, the Collins Center for the Arts, is on the UMaine campus). Blow off studying for finals for two hours and get my socks knocked off by the BSO in the process--wonderful (double that when you add in the strong violin part in the Orff and the BSO's violin section's habit of taking an awesome violin part up a few notches). Bonus: student tickets (you have to be a full-time student) are USD$13, including the $3 processing fee that's applied to all tickets--and, unlike regular-priced tickets, student tickets are the same price no matter where you sit. Wonderful! I'm so jealous of students in the Bangor/Orono area right now. How I wish I could've gone. Bangor Symphony, why must you do this to me? Why?!
Okay, I think that's enough gushing about the BSO. **scoffs jokingly** Typical favourite orchestras and violinists. Bangor Symphony Orchestra, I love you--and I can't wait to hear today's concert on MPBN on July sixteenth (START THE COUNTDOWN!). Go violins!
In the midst of all this BSO-induced excitement (which is all in a day's work for me), I wrote my final essays for Contemporary Indigenous Arts.
Sunday, April 6, 2014
finals and my favourite opera
So my last post seems to have taken on a life of its own: as of this evening, it has sixty-two views. Normally, a post will get somewhere between twenty and thirty views in a week and only hit the higher numbers (anything above thirty) in the second week. However, I'm not surprised: it was a fairly dramatic post, and we humans seem drawn to that kind of thing (why do you think we have tabloids like the National Enquirer?). I myself love a good, dramatic opera--even better if it ends tragically (see: Carman, La Bohème--which I will talk about later--La Traviata, etc.)
Monday: The End is definitely in sight, after an intense semester (that's what happens when you study anything to do with Indigenous peoples, given how much white settlers have put them through since Contact in 1492). Carla praised our writing, as we've all written strong papers. I wanted to applaud, and I told her so after class.
Tuesday: This week's meeting with Joan was extremely emotional on my part and I cried several times. We discussed what I've been going through and how I could deal with it--some of Joan's suggestions overlapped quite a bit with Lynn's, and I told her so. I also shared with her the part of Lynn's email that makes me cry (you know which part I'm talking about, Lynn), which I'd written on a Post-It note--and this time I had to put my head on my arms facedown and sob, I was so moved by Lynn's words and thankful for her support. A few minutes after reading the excerpt to Joan, I put it in my wallet, behind my drivers' license, which is always in front of my other cards. It will remain there for the rest of my time in Halifax.
Wednesday: What is it with me taking on personal projects during finals that end up taking over my life??? This time it's an art project (the blog book is still happening, though: I'm going to dive into finishing it once I'm home, and I want to have it sent off to Blurb by the end of May at the latest), but I can't say much more than that because it's a surprise for one of my friends/readers (not saying who). I will say that it's in a medium that I haven't worked with since graduating from NBCCD. I've been doing some preliminary work, but the bulk of the project won't happen until I'm home. I might do a post about it once it's in said friend's hands (I plan to keep writing here after I'm done school, as I'm now officially hooked on blog writing and writing in general).
Thursday: Exam Review Day (the exam for 20th Century Art is on Tuesday). This time I somehow managed to not end up with writers' cramp. Hmmm... Maybe it had something to do with the fact that the review started about half an hour after class officially started, due to the need to fill out course evaluation forms.
That evening I went to a show opening at ViewPoint Gallery--and I finally met one of the guys who skyped with Peter's class during my first semester as a Photog: Eric Boutilier-Brown, who photographs nudes. Like me, Eric went to both NBCCD and NSCAD.
Friday: As per usual, I spent the day studying. In this case, I finished copying my notes from the review into a Word document. I'm not going to worry about the other two exams (both of which are take-homes) until after the one for 20th Century Art is done.
Saturday: La Bohème Day. During the intermission between acts three and four, Margaret and Ira talked about how the bohemians of the opera are not the same people in the fourth act that they were in the first: they've experienced so much. Boy, do I know what that feels like. Since really getting into that opera a few years ago, I've found that I really identify with it, and now more than ever: I'm a poor art student (however, they just had to worry about making rent--not paying back a student loan) and I've been through a difficult year. At its heart, Bohème is about life and its ups and downs, its joys and sorrows, which is one of the reasons why I love it so much. Bohème could happen in real life--and probably has.
I spent the day copying my exam notes back into my notebook, which Ken Rice (the administrative assistant in the history and critical studies department) had suggested as a way of making sure the info's in my head.
And yes, I sobbed like my heart was breaking during the fourth act--which it was (as Ben Heppner said during the intermission between the third and fourth acts, "ready, set... Cry." La Bohème in a nutshell.).
The woman who played Mimí that day was filling in for the woman who was supposed to sing the role, as that woman is sick with the flu. The replacement had just sung the title role in Madama Butterfly the night before and was running on about two hours of sleep. And, gee, I sometimes struggle to get through those days when I get less than eight hours of sleep--and I don't have to sing a whole (emotionally demanding) opera. Although the performance was simulcast and I wanted to go (I'd seriously considered it), I couldn't due to the need to study. When I go to the Met--and I will someday--La Bohème will be one of the possibilities. I just hope they're still doing the current production (by Franco Zefferelli, the guy who directed my favourite Romeo & Juliet): it's been at the Met since '81, and the company has started to retire some of the older productions. The predecessor to the Met's current Ring production, which was by Otto Schenk, opened in '87 and was retired at the end of the '08 - '09 season (the current production by Robert Lepage--a Canuck!--opened two seasons later).
As the opera hadn't been broadcast since '10, when I was a stressed-out FVA student, I had a few moments early on where I thought, "I'm listening to my favourite opera!" While I have other favourites (Carmen, Doctor Atomic, La Damnation de Faust, The Nose and La Traviata), La Bohème holds a special place in my heart, and if I had to whittle my favourites down to just one opera, Bohème would be it. And I'll admit that I lip-synched parts of it, especially O soave fanciulla (see video below), and smiled as I heard familiar tune after familiar tune, each one feeling like an old friend that I hadn't seen in forever (I deduced that La Bohème is the opera equivalent of The Nutcracker, in terms of how much I love it in relation to other works in its art form--though I came to Bohème probably about five to ten years after falling in love with Nutcracker).
Sunday: I had a mild run-in with the person with whom I'm not getting along today, and, although it was mild, the incident coloured my entire day. Let's face it: I'm extremely worn down emotionally, and everything has the potential to make my entire day either a good one or a bad one (note to Mom and Tom: when I come home, be extremely gentle with me. You are already good, kind parents, but I'm extremely fragile right now, as this year has been traumatic.). I spent the day prepping for the Twentieth Century Art exam, which is on Tuesday--and found out that I have to fill in some gaps in my notes in the definitions section, which will happen tomorrow (**gulp**). Wish me luck! It's only after that exam is over that I'll even think about the other two exams.
Monday: The End is definitely in sight, after an intense semester (that's what happens when you study anything to do with Indigenous peoples, given how much white settlers have put them through since Contact in 1492). Carla praised our writing, as we've all written strong papers. I wanted to applaud, and I told her so after class.
Tuesday: This week's meeting with Joan was extremely emotional on my part and I cried several times. We discussed what I've been going through and how I could deal with it--some of Joan's suggestions overlapped quite a bit with Lynn's, and I told her so. I also shared with her the part of Lynn's email that makes me cry (you know which part I'm talking about, Lynn), which I'd written on a Post-It note--and this time I had to put my head on my arms facedown and sob, I was so moved by Lynn's words and thankful for her support. A few minutes after reading the excerpt to Joan, I put it in my wallet, behind my drivers' license, which is always in front of my other cards. It will remain there for the rest of my time in Halifax.
Wednesday: What is it with me taking on personal projects during finals that end up taking over my life??? This time it's an art project (the blog book is still happening, though: I'm going to dive into finishing it once I'm home, and I want to have it sent off to Blurb by the end of May at the latest), but I can't say much more than that because it's a surprise for one of my friends/readers (not saying who). I will say that it's in a medium that I haven't worked with since graduating from NBCCD. I've been doing some preliminary work, but the bulk of the project won't happen until I'm home. I might do a post about it once it's in said friend's hands (I plan to keep writing here after I'm done school, as I'm now officially hooked on blog writing and writing in general).
Thursday: Exam Review Day (the exam for 20th Century Art is on Tuesday). This time I somehow managed to not end up with writers' cramp. Hmmm... Maybe it had something to do with the fact that the review started about half an hour after class officially started, due to the need to fill out course evaluation forms.
That evening I went to a show opening at ViewPoint Gallery--and I finally met one of the guys who skyped with Peter's class during my first semester as a Photog: Eric Boutilier-Brown, who photographs nudes. Like me, Eric went to both NBCCD and NSCAD.
Friday: As per usual, I spent the day studying. In this case, I finished copying my notes from the review into a Word document. I'm not going to worry about the other two exams (both of which are take-homes) until after the one for 20th Century Art is done.
Saturday: La Bohème Day. During the intermission between acts three and four, Margaret and Ira talked about how the bohemians of the opera are not the same people in the fourth act that they were in the first: they've experienced so much. Boy, do I know what that feels like. Since really getting into that opera a few years ago, I've found that I really identify with it, and now more than ever: I'm a poor art student (however, they just had to worry about making rent--not paying back a student loan) and I've been through a difficult year. At its heart, Bohème is about life and its ups and downs, its joys and sorrows, which is one of the reasons why I love it so much. Bohème could happen in real life--and probably has.
I spent the day copying my exam notes back into my notebook, which Ken Rice (the administrative assistant in the history and critical studies department) had suggested as a way of making sure the info's in my head.
And yes, I sobbed like my heart was breaking during the fourth act--which it was (as Ben Heppner said during the intermission between the third and fourth acts, "ready, set... Cry." La Bohème in a nutshell.).
The woman who played Mimí that day was filling in for the woman who was supposed to sing the role, as that woman is sick with the flu. The replacement had just sung the title role in Madama Butterfly the night before and was running on about two hours of sleep. And, gee, I sometimes struggle to get through those days when I get less than eight hours of sleep--and I don't have to sing a whole (emotionally demanding) opera. Although the performance was simulcast and I wanted to go (I'd seriously considered it), I couldn't due to the need to study. When I go to the Met--and I will someday--La Bohème will be one of the possibilities. I just hope they're still doing the current production (by Franco Zefferelli, the guy who directed my favourite Romeo & Juliet): it's been at the Met since '81, and the company has started to retire some of the older productions. The predecessor to the Met's current Ring production, which was by Otto Schenk, opened in '87 and was retired at the end of the '08 - '09 season (the current production by Robert Lepage--a Canuck!--opened two seasons later).
As the opera hadn't been broadcast since '10, when I was a stressed-out FVA student, I had a few moments early on where I thought, "I'm listening to my favourite opera!" While I have other favourites (Carmen, Doctor Atomic, La Damnation de Faust, The Nose and La Traviata), La Bohème holds a special place in my heart, and if I had to whittle my favourites down to just one opera, Bohème would be it. And I'll admit that I lip-synched parts of it, especially O soave fanciulla (see video below), and smiled as I heard familiar tune after familiar tune, each one feeling like an old friend that I hadn't seen in forever (I deduced that La Bohème is the opera equivalent of The Nutcracker, in terms of how much I love it in relation to other works in its art form--though I came to Bohème probably about five to ten years after falling in love with Nutcracker).
Sunday: I had a mild run-in with the person with whom I'm not getting along today, and, although it was mild, the incident coloured my entire day. Let's face it: I'm extremely worn down emotionally, and everything has the potential to make my entire day either a good one or a bad one (note to Mom and Tom: when I come home, be extremely gentle with me. You are already good, kind parents, but I'm extremely fragile right now, as this year has been traumatic.). I spent the day prepping for the Twentieth Century Art exam, which is on Tuesday--and found out that I have to fill in some gaps in my notes in the definitions section, which will happen tomorrow (**gulp**). Wish me luck! It's only after that exam is over that I'll even think about the other two exams.
Monday, March 31, 2014
a light at the end of the tunnel
Yet again, I can't wait for the semester to be over. Even the death of someone close to me doesn't wear me down this much.
Monday: I'd been feeling rather down and alone, even though I knew I wasn't (though ultimately I didn't know how to describe it--except through Albinoni's Adagio in G Minor), since Friday or so, and I wanted to talk about it with Joan, as I suspected that my feelings had to do with what I've been going through this year. However, this was one of those times when I wanted to be as thorough as possible and not miss anything, so I decided to write. I don't know if I could call it a letter or an essay--maybe a cross between the two. I wrote the first draft longhand in my notebook (some things demand to be written longhand rather than typed), but toward the end of the evening I decided to type it up so that it would be easier to read and cleaner (still a roughish draft, though: I wanted it to be as honest as possible). It was one of those times where I was figuring things out as I went along, and that was obvious in my writing.
That evening, I happened to have a look at Dal's counselling staff list. Joan's second from the top. Because their layout's a bit wonky and the text goes through the photos, here's the link to her portrait.
Tuesday: The start of Joan's and my meeting was delayed because someone had left their stuff in the room where Joan meets with students. Once we finally got started, I gave her the letter, which she read. We spent the rest of the meeting discussing the things that I'd brought up in said letter. As Joan will only be meeting students at NSCAD for two more weeks(!), we scheduled not only this coming week's meeting, but the one after that. She won't be coming to NSCAD during the final week (which is likely to be a zoo here), but I'm welcome to make an appointment to see her at Dal, about half an hour's walk from the Granville Campus.
As usual, I spent the rest of the day studying.
Wednesday: I'm hoping that that's the last big storm of the year. NSCAD was closed (as was just about everything else except for SuperStore, but I still fought my way to school. On my way I had to stop and throw all my weight into bracing myself against the gusts and I saw people skiing down Barrington (the main street) and other folks digging out a car. When I finally made it in, I burst out laughing and recounted my adventure to Kevin, the security guard (no snow days for security). Apparently I wasn't the only one who was nuts enough to make it in that day. However, I was the only one in Photo. In the evening, I read the live blog (on Twitter) of the first debate for the Toronto election and started the final readings for Contemporary Indigenous Arts.
Thursday: I finished the readings, meaning that I'm done reading for college/university. The end is nigh. As I put it in a Facebook status update, "five-and-a-half highlighters, three courses, one semester--done."
Friday: I calibrated my computer--but I decided to redo it because while I had the brightness set to my normal level, it was much higher than the computers at school. While it's impossible to do as thorough a calibration job on a laptop as it is on a desktop (the lighting situation that the computer's in affects the calibration, and mine goes everywhere, from my room--natural light during the day, one sixty-watt light at night--to the sunroom--natural light during the day and a bunch of lights at night), I can notice an improvement. And it looks much better than my old computer did after I calibrated it (I was never happy with the job that ColorMunki did--I used Spyder4PRO this time around. Based on the results that I got, I think I might go with Spyder when I get my own calibration equipment. Spyder's around $300 cheaper, too (better results? Cheaper? I'm in!).
I also started studying for the 20th Century Art final. Better mark, here I come! And on top of all that, I worked on my independent project.
Saturday: Photo was surprisingly busy that day. In this case, "busy" meant that there were two other people there besides me: Katie (a friend and former classmate) and Adrian (which surprised me: I'm not used to seeing teachers in on the weekend, at either NBCCD or NSCAD). Usually the Photo Dept. has a population of one (me) on Saturdays, though Alex has been talking in a rather concerned tone about how empty the place has been: usually the department is hopping at this point in the semester and people are booking the printers left, right and centre. Come on, folks! Get in here and use the stuff!
I spent the day studying for the 20th Century Art exam, listening to the opera--and wishing I could be out in the sunny, +10˚C/50˚F weather (the joys of exam season: just when it's starting to get nice out, we students have to hole up with finals prep).
Next week's performance is my #1 favourite opera, La Bohème. **sniffle, sniffle, sob** The fourth act never fails to reduce me to a sobbing, heartbroken wreck. The performance will be simulcast, but due to all the studying I have to do, I'll have to forego that performance and make do with listening to it on the radio.
As mentioned about a month ago, that day was the tenth anniversary of the day I discussed with Lynn the possibility of quitting lessons. I can't believe it's been ten years: that day is still very fresh in my mind. I remember how upset and conflicted I was, how my voice shook the whole time, pacing as I spoke, Lynn holding me and telling me that it was okay: I could cry... As I thought about that day and commemorated the anniversary, I was amazed at how strong my memories are ten years later--March 29th, 2003 was just one day out of my twenty-five years of life. But it was--and still is--an important one.
That night, I had another run-in with the person who's been making my life hell this year, and this time was really bad. I'll be really glad to be out of that situation once I'm done school.
Sunday: More studying for 20th Century Art. I recalibrated my computer, as I wasn't happy with the first result: when compared with the desktop monitors in Photo, my screen was too bright and the colours wren't quite right. The second time around my screen still looks a bit warmer than the Photo computers, but I'm a lot happier. I just need to remember to not adjust the brightness (doing so completely screws up the calibration).
I also told Lynn about the latest episode and she emailed back a little over half an hour later--and made me cry because some of what she wrote was so beautiful and because I'm indescribably grateful to her and worn down from this year and the last day, making my emotions really intense. Half of me is tempted to say more than that, but the other half says that no, these emails are so personal that they should stay between her and me (okay, and maybe Joan)--though I will say two things: 1. her email gave me hope and 2. I think that what I feel and what was said could be summed up by one of the most beautiful pieces of music that I've ever heard: Arvo Pärt's Spiegel Im Spiegel, which is a piece that bypasses everything else and goes straight to the soul. Enjoy.
Monday: I'd been feeling rather down and alone, even though I knew I wasn't (though ultimately I didn't know how to describe it--except through Albinoni's Adagio in G Minor), since Friday or so, and I wanted to talk about it with Joan, as I suspected that my feelings had to do with what I've been going through this year. However, this was one of those times when I wanted to be as thorough as possible and not miss anything, so I decided to write. I don't know if I could call it a letter or an essay--maybe a cross between the two. I wrote the first draft longhand in my notebook (some things demand to be written longhand rather than typed), but toward the end of the evening I decided to type it up so that it would be easier to read and cleaner (still a roughish draft, though: I wanted it to be as honest as possible). It was one of those times where I was figuring things out as I went along, and that was obvious in my writing.
That evening, I happened to have a look at Dal's counselling staff list. Joan's second from the top. Because their layout's a bit wonky and the text goes through the photos, here's the link to her portrait.
Tuesday: The start of Joan's and my meeting was delayed because someone had left their stuff in the room where Joan meets with students. Once we finally got started, I gave her the letter, which she read. We spent the rest of the meeting discussing the things that I'd brought up in said letter. As Joan will only be meeting students at NSCAD for two more weeks(!), we scheduled not only this coming week's meeting, but the one after that. She won't be coming to NSCAD during the final week (which is likely to be a zoo here), but I'm welcome to make an appointment to see her at Dal, about half an hour's walk from the Granville Campus.
As usual, I spent the rest of the day studying.
Wednesday: I'm hoping that that's the last big storm of the year. NSCAD was closed (as was just about everything else except for SuperStore, but I still fought my way to school. On my way I had to stop and throw all my weight into bracing myself against the gusts and I saw people skiing down Barrington (the main street) and other folks digging out a car. When I finally made it in, I burst out laughing and recounted my adventure to Kevin, the security guard (no snow days for security). Apparently I wasn't the only one who was nuts enough to make it in that day. However, I was the only one in Photo. In the evening, I read the live blog (on Twitter) of the first debate for the Toronto election and started the final readings for Contemporary Indigenous Arts.
Thursday: I finished the readings, meaning that I'm done reading for college/university. The end is nigh. As I put it in a Facebook status update, "five-and-a-half highlighters, three courses, one semester--done."
Friday: I calibrated my computer--but I decided to redo it because while I had the brightness set to my normal level, it was much higher than the computers at school. While it's impossible to do as thorough a calibration job on a laptop as it is on a desktop (the lighting situation that the computer's in affects the calibration, and mine goes everywhere, from my room--natural light during the day, one sixty-watt light at night--to the sunroom--natural light during the day and a bunch of lights at night), I can notice an improvement. And it looks much better than my old computer did after I calibrated it (I was never happy with the job that ColorMunki did--I used Spyder4PRO this time around. Based on the results that I got, I think I might go with Spyder when I get my own calibration equipment. Spyder's around $300 cheaper, too (better results? Cheaper? I'm in!).
I also started studying for the 20th Century Art final. Better mark, here I come! And on top of all that, I worked on my independent project.
Saturday: Photo was surprisingly busy that day. In this case, "busy" meant that there were two other people there besides me: Katie (a friend and former classmate) and Adrian (which surprised me: I'm not used to seeing teachers in on the weekend, at either NBCCD or NSCAD). Usually the Photo Dept. has a population of one (me) on Saturdays, though Alex has been talking in a rather concerned tone about how empty the place has been: usually the department is hopping at this point in the semester and people are booking the printers left, right and centre. Come on, folks! Get in here and use the stuff!
I spent the day studying for the 20th Century Art exam, listening to the opera--and wishing I could be out in the sunny, +10˚C/50˚F weather (the joys of exam season: just when it's starting to get nice out, we students have to hole up with finals prep).
Next week's performance is my #1 favourite opera, La Bohème. **sniffle, sniffle, sob** The fourth act never fails to reduce me to a sobbing, heartbroken wreck. The performance will be simulcast, but due to all the studying I have to do, I'll have to forego that performance and make do with listening to it on the radio.
As mentioned about a month ago, that day was the tenth anniversary of the day I discussed with Lynn the possibility of quitting lessons. I can't believe it's been ten years: that day is still very fresh in my mind. I remember how upset and conflicted I was, how my voice shook the whole time, pacing as I spoke, Lynn holding me and telling me that it was okay: I could cry... As I thought about that day and commemorated the anniversary, I was amazed at how strong my memories are ten years later--March 29th, 2003 was just one day out of my twenty-five years of life. But it was--and still is--an important one.
That night, I had another run-in with the person who's been making my life hell this year, and this time was really bad. I'll be really glad to be out of that situation once I'm done school.
Sunday: More studying for 20th Century Art. I recalibrated my computer, as I wasn't happy with the first result: when compared with the desktop monitors in Photo, my screen was too bright and the colours wren't quite right. The second time around my screen still looks a bit warmer than the Photo computers, but I'm a lot happier. I just need to remember to not adjust the brightness (doing so completely screws up the calibration).
I also told Lynn about the latest episode and she emailed back a little over half an hour later--and made me cry because some of what she wrote was so beautiful and because I'm indescribably grateful to her and worn down from this year and the last day, making my emotions really intense. Half of me is tempted to say more than that, but the other half says that no, these emails are so personal that they should stay between her and me (okay, and maybe Joan)--though I will say two things: 1. her email gave me hope and 2. I think that what I feel and what was said could be summed up by one of the most beautiful pieces of music that I've ever heard: Arvo Pärt's Spiegel Im Spiegel, which is a piece that bypasses everything else and goes straight to the soul. Enjoy.
Monday, March 24, 2014
barely enough time to catch my breath
So much for wanting to be done school...
Monday: Another one of those nonstop studystudystudy days--when not in class.
Tuesday: I had my usual appointment with Joan--and then spent the rest of the day studying.
For several years I have wanted to take a music history course. I know a lot of music history, but it's all through my own research (which has been ongoing since I was a little kid watching Beethoven Lives Upstairs--a kids' movie that I highly recommend for anyone, regardless of age. In fact, I'll post it below and you can watch it right now.)--I've never taken a course.
Part two (embedding has been disabled).
Part four (once again, embedding has been disabled).
After the hell that I went through this year, I wonder if I'd be able to live with him, given his temper (which was due to lead poisoning, as was his deafness). However, unlike the person who's been so nasty to me this year, Beethoven was genuinely sorry once he cooled down, admitted where he went wrong, sought forgiveness, worked to smooth things over--and didn't hold grudges.
Wednesday: More studying.
I found out via the BSO's FB page that, like the Met, their broadcast schedule is available online. I plan to listen to the concerts titled Appalachian Spring (which also features Beethoven's sixth, one of my favourite symphonies) and Carmina Burana (who am I to miss out on the knock-your-socks off power of the BSO combined with that work??). The first concert, which was performed earlier this month, will be broadcast on June fourth and Carmina will be performed on April thirteenth and broadcast on July sixteenth--two days before my twenty-sixth birthday! BRING IT, BSO! If you've never heard that orchestra play, you should. I don't just gush about it because I know a couple of the musicians--I gush about the BSO because it has my socks knocked off. If you're outside MPBN's broadcasting range and want to listen to the orchestra (or anything else), click here.
Thursday: The afternoon class was more of a marathon viewing of short movies than anything else.
That day, I found a course that was what I'd been looking for. It's through Guelph University (Ontario). I won't be taking it for a little while, though.
Friday: You guessed it: more studying.
Saturday: As the Met was performing an opera by Alban Berg, one of the few composers whose style I don't really care for, I had to look elsewhere for my Saturday music fix. I opted to gorge myself on Carmina Burana, which I think I listened to three times in a row. Thanks, BSO! I hadn't listened to it in far too long, anyway.
Sunday: I worked on a surprise for those who helped me through this year and, yes, studied.
I also set up an appointment with someone who's interested in subletting my half of the lease at my apartment. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day between that, an appointment with Adrian, class, and a friend's MFA thesis show opening--in that order. **whew!**
Monday: Another one of those nonstop studystudystudy days--when not in class.
Tuesday: I had my usual appointment with Joan--and then spent the rest of the day studying.
For several years I have wanted to take a music history course. I know a lot of music history, but it's all through my own research (which has been ongoing since I was a little kid watching Beethoven Lives Upstairs--a kids' movie that I highly recommend for anyone, regardless of age. In fact, I'll post it below and you can watch it right now.)--I've never taken a course.
Part two (embedding has been disabled).
Part four (once again, embedding has been disabled).
After the hell that I went through this year, I wonder if I'd be able to live with him, given his temper (which was due to lead poisoning, as was his deafness). However, unlike the person who's been so nasty to me this year, Beethoven was genuinely sorry once he cooled down, admitted where he went wrong, sought forgiveness, worked to smooth things over--and didn't hold grudges.
Wednesday: More studying.
I found out via the BSO's FB page that, like the Met, their broadcast schedule is available online. I plan to listen to the concerts titled Appalachian Spring (which also features Beethoven's sixth, one of my favourite symphonies) and Carmina Burana (who am I to miss out on the knock-your-socks off power of the BSO combined with that work??). The first concert, which was performed earlier this month, will be broadcast on June fourth and Carmina will be performed on April thirteenth and broadcast on July sixteenth--two days before my twenty-sixth birthday! BRING IT, BSO! If you've never heard that orchestra play, you should. I don't just gush about it because I know a couple of the musicians--I gush about the BSO because it has my socks knocked off. If you're outside MPBN's broadcasting range and want to listen to the orchestra (or anything else), click here.
Thursday: The afternoon class was more of a marathon viewing of short movies than anything else.
That day, I found a course that was what I'd been looking for. It's through Guelph University (Ontario). I won't be taking it for a little while, though.
Friday: You guessed it: more studying.
Saturday: As the Met was performing an opera by Alban Berg, one of the few composers whose style I don't really care for, I had to look elsewhere for my Saturday music fix. I opted to gorge myself on Carmina Burana, which I think I listened to three times in a row. Thanks, BSO! I hadn't listened to it in far too long, anyway.
Sunday: I worked on a surprise for those who helped me through this year and, yes, studied.
I also set up an appointment with someone who's interested in subletting my half of the lease at my apartment. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day between that, an appointment with Adrian, class, and a friend's MFA thesis show opening--in that order. **whew!**
Monday, March 17, 2014
to quote Finding Nemo, "just keep swimming"
FVA Annapurna is probably looking at me sideways and going, "'no more all-nighters,' eh? Looks like your words are on the menu." I had to eat those words this week.
Also, go Olivia Chow!
Monday: I got a reply to the email that I sent to The Fred Rogers Company!
Before class, I met with the writing tutor to get my gallery review for Twentieth Century Art edited, due to needing to pull my grade up after the disaster that was my midterm. I didn't need to make many changes, as it was a strong essay to begin with.
Tuesday: As usual, I met with Joan and talked about the week.
I met with my presentation group again and we put together the presentation.
Wednesday: While my time management skills are usually fairly good, this semester has kind of thrown me for a loop, with Wednesday night being the worst. I usually give myself anywhere from a couple of days to a week to write an assignment for school, but this time I was forced to write one and a half papers (I'd started one on Tuesday) in a night. I was at it until about 2:00 AM Thursday morning (including editing). But I didn't turn out my bedside light until an hour or two later, which meant that I was running on very little sleep on Thursday. I still wonder how the heck I got through that day.
Thursday: I handed in my midterms for Topics in Modern Canadian Art--and tried to stay awake. We also did the presentation.
Olivia Chow (Jack Layton's widow and former NDP MP for the riding of Trinity-Spadina in Toronto--Wednesday was her last day in that position) announced that she is running for mayor of Toronto, something that people had been speculating she'd do at some point. I wish her the best and I wish I could vote for her.
The election is October twenty-seventh--meaning that if she wins, the twenty-eighth will be two times more awesome than usual. I always celebrate Lynn's birthday, but if Olivia wins I'll be celebrating that as well. I'll be keeping a very close eye on the results on election night. Yay for awesome women and see ya, Rob Ford!
Friday: After having a midterm or something else due every week since getting back from break, I finally had a bit of freedom in which to catch up on readings that I missed.
Saturday: I spent the day reading while listening to the Met (what's new?).
Sunday: More reading, and I came up with the crazy idea to do a response essay for Contemporary Indigenous Arts, as I was so into what I was reading and I had two left. Thing was, it was fairly late at night. Oh, well--challenge accepted.
That night I had yet another run-in with the person with whom I'm not getting along. I've been planning to cut them out of my life once I'm home (get rid of all photos of them, emails by them, their contact info--maybe even go so far as to block their email address, just to be safe), but the latest episode has solidified those plans. While I didn't cry, I was shaking so bad that I could actually see my hands shake and my teeth were chattering, even though I wasn't cold. I don't need people like that in my life: I need people like Mom, Tom, Helen, Lynn (hi, you four!), Ken, Becky, Adrian--people who will build me up, not cut me down until I'm a shell of what I once was. I think the friendship's toast, anyway.
Those two things meant that the night was incredibly long and far too exciting for my liking.
If you want to know what I feel when I think about coming home after I'm done school, this piece sums it up perfectly. Freedom, I will have survived a trip to hell and back--and I will finally have a chance to heal (that thought alone is a beautiful thing).
Also, this piece is just pure fun:
Also, go Olivia Chow!
Monday: I got a reply to the email that I sent to The Fred Rogers Company!
Before class, I met with the writing tutor to get my gallery review for Twentieth Century Art edited, due to needing to pull my grade up after the disaster that was my midterm. I didn't need to make many changes, as it was a strong essay to begin with.
Tuesday: As usual, I met with Joan and talked about the week.
I met with my presentation group again and we put together the presentation.
Wednesday: While my time management skills are usually fairly good, this semester has kind of thrown me for a loop, with Wednesday night being the worst. I usually give myself anywhere from a couple of days to a week to write an assignment for school, but this time I was forced to write one and a half papers (I'd started one on Tuesday) in a night. I was at it until about 2:00 AM Thursday morning (including editing). But I didn't turn out my bedside light until an hour or two later, which meant that I was running on very little sleep on Thursday. I still wonder how the heck I got through that day.
Thursday: I handed in my midterms for Topics in Modern Canadian Art--and tried to stay awake. We also did the presentation.
Olivia Chow (Jack Layton's widow and former NDP MP for the riding of Trinity-Spadina in Toronto--Wednesday was her last day in that position) announced that she is running for mayor of Toronto, something that people had been speculating she'd do at some point. I wish her the best and I wish I could vote for her.
The election is October twenty-seventh--meaning that if she wins, the twenty-eighth will be two times more awesome than usual. I always celebrate Lynn's birthday, but if Olivia wins I'll be celebrating that as well. I'll be keeping a very close eye on the results on election night. Yay for awesome women and see ya, Rob Ford!
Friday: After having a midterm or something else due every week since getting back from break, I finally had a bit of freedom in which to catch up on readings that I missed.
Saturday: I spent the day reading while listening to the Met (what's new?).
Sunday: More reading, and I came up with the crazy idea to do a response essay for Contemporary Indigenous Arts, as I was so into what I was reading and I had two left. Thing was, it was fairly late at night. Oh, well--challenge accepted.
That night I had yet another run-in with the person with whom I'm not getting along. I've been planning to cut them out of my life once I'm home (get rid of all photos of them, emails by them, their contact info--maybe even go so far as to block their email address, just to be safe), but the latest episode has solidified those plans. While I didn't cry, I was shaking so bad that I could actually see my hands shake and my teeth were chattering, even though I wasn't cold. I don't need people like that in my life: I need people like Mom, Tom, Helen, Lynn (hi, you four!), Ken, Becky, Adrian--people who will build me up, not cut me down until I'm a shell of what I once was. I think the friendship's toast, anyway.
Those two things meant that the night was incredibly long and far too exciting for my liking.
If you want to know what I feel when I think about coming home after I'm done school, this piece sums it up perfectly. Freedom, I will have survived a trip to hell and back--and I will finally have a chance to heal (that thought alone is a beautiful thing).
Also, this piece is just pure fun:
Monday, March 10, 2014
the final push toward The End
The Mister Rogers obsession continues (at least in its current form--I've been a fan since I was a kid)...
Monday: This half of the semester I have had to work harder than I've worked since FVA. In some ways I love it (I don't like it when things are too easy--which probably explains some of my love for the violin and French horn, though I was initially attracted to those instruments because of their sound), but in others I hate it, the stress that results from times like this being one of the main reasons. And when I get stressed out like that, I begin to doubt myself and whether I'll get everything done on time (thankfully, since finishing FVA, I've managed to pull through times like this beautifully).
This time, I was stressed out about my midterm paper for Contemporary Indigenous Arts, which I just barely managed to proofread and print before dashing off to class.
Tuesday: Tuesday was one of those days where I planned to get stuff done, but due to various appointments that were higher on the priorities list, most of the other things didn't get accomplished.
I did have my appointment with Joan. An hour after that I met with Jayne to talk with her about my midterm. I'm going to have to work like you wouldn't believe to pull off the rest of the semester and offset my crappy midterm mark.
While watching Mister Rogers' Emmy interview (during which I found out that he was colourblind) that evening, I found this quote that really speaks to what I've been through this year and the support I've received. It is one of several things that have appeared over the past week or so (starting with the documentary that triggered the current obsession). Yet another reason why I don't believe in coincidence.
Wednesday: Readreadread, writewritewrite.
Thursday: I emailed The Fred Rogers Company (formerly Family Communications, Inc., which distributed Mister Rogers' Neighborhood), sharing with the people there (many of whom worked with Mister Rogers and have been with the company for decades) my experiences of watching the show as well as how Mister Rogers and his message continues to play a huge role in my life, especially as I'm champing at the bit to finish university. I also quoted part of last week's post (the last two paragraphs in the Saturday section) and included the above quote and how it is relevant to the support that I have received. As the thought of writing to Mister Rogers didn't occur to me until after he died, this was a way of making up for that.
When Alex came into the computer lab to turn off the computers that night, he asked me how I was. I let loose and told him about the fact that I'm more than ready to be done school, both because of what I've been through and because I'm just ready to be finished school, which I wasn't when I graduated from NBCCD (the final day was incredibly bittersweet and when I got back to my place I burst into tears). He said that that's often the case: either students aren't ready to leave or they're champing at the bit like I am.
When I came home that night, I found out that my internet had disappeared and I couldn't get it back.
Friday: More reading.
That night I called EastLink. They did everything they could on their end and... nothing. It's a problem somewhere in my computer, which is both good (it's limited to only one computer) and bad (no internet on my computer).
Saturday: Because I had to read and write so much on a fairly tight deadline, I had to forego my weekly dose of the Met (sorry, guys) as this week's opera was in English and I can't read or write and listen to singing in a language that I understand at the same time (meaning that Italian's out, as I understand enough to have a rough idea of what's going on, as is the Habañera, as I have that song memorized in French and roughly memorized in English). I'm not much of a fan of Baroque opera, but I loved The Enchanted Island when it premiered a few seasons ago (it's a fairly new pastiche--i.e., a mashup--that the Met commissioned).
Sunday: This week I have to do a presentation with a couple of my classmates on two current art shows: one local (we picked the Art Gallery of Nova Scotia) and one national. We met at school on Saturday and made our picks and then then met again on Sunday, this time at the AGNS (home of Maud Lewis' teensy little painted house). We had initially chosen one of the shows there, but ended up choosing a different show (also at the AGNS) that grabbed our attention right away and that made the initial pick seem dull in comparison. That means that we have to come up with a new pick for the national show, as the initial pick for the national one tied in with the show at the AGNS that we'd picked and then decided not to profile.
Afterward, I went back to the college and wrote for the rest of the afternoon and finished the gallery review for Twentieth-Century Art.
That evening, Tom called me on my cell and we tried to troubleshoot my internet problem. No luck.
I spent the rest of the evening--you guessed it--reading and writing. Currently, all I have to be concerned about is my midterm for Topics in Modern Canadian Art (due on Thursday--I'm so glad Carla gave us an extra week to do it) and possibly another response paper for Contemporary Indigenous Arts (I wrote one this weekend, which is number three--that means I have to write at least two more by the end of the semester). No rest for this university student.
Monday: This half of the semester I have had to work harder than I've worked since FVA. In some ways I love it (I don't like it when things are too easy--which probably explains some of my love for the violin and French horn, though I was initially attracted to those instruments because of their sound), but in others I hate it, the stress that results from times like this being one of the main reasons. And when I get stressed out like that, I begin to doubt myself and whether I'll get everything done on time (thankfully, since finishing FVA, I've managed to pull through times like this beautifully).
This time, I was stressed out about my midterm paper for Contemporary Indigenous Arts, which I just barely managed to proofread and print before dashing off to class.
Tuesday: Tuesday was one of those days where I planned to get stuff done, but due to various appointments that were higher on the priorities list, most of the other things didn't get accomplished.
I did have my appointment with Joan. An hour after that I met with Jayne to talk with her about my midterm. I'm going to have to work like you wouldn't believe to pull off the rest of the semester and offset my crappy midterm mark.
While watching Mister Rogers' Emmy interview (during which I found out that he was colourblind) that evening, I found this quote that really speaks to what I've been through this year and the support I've received. It is one of several things that have appeared over the past week or so (starting with the documentary that triggered the current obsession). Yet another reason why I don't believe in coincidence.
"It's the little epiphanies of life that matter most. It's those moments when somebody will tell you, 'you know, you really did help me in a way that you could have never known, just by being there, and just by being you.'"--Mister Rogers
The quote is from this video.
Wednesday: Readreadread, writewritewrite.
Thursday: I emailed The Fred Rogers Company (formerly Family Communications, Inc., which distributed Mister Rogers' Neighborhood), sharing with the people there (many of whom worked with Mister Rogers and have been with the company for decades) my experiences of watching the show as well as how Mister Rogers and his message continues to play a huge role in my life, especially as I'm champing at the bit to finish university. I also quoted part of last week's post (the last two paragraphs in the Saturday section) and included the above quote and how it is relevant to the support that I have received. As the thought of writing to Mister Rogers didn't occur to me until after he died, this was a way of making up for that.
When Alex came into the computer lab to turn off the computers that night, he asked me how I was. I let loose and told him about the fact that I'm more than ready to be done school, both because of what I've been through and because I'm just ready to be finished school, which I wasn't when I graduated from NBCCD (the final day was incredibly bittersweet and when I got back to my place I burst into tears). He said that that's often the case: either students aren't ready to leave or they're champing at the bit like I am.
When I came home that night, I found out that my internet had disappeared and I couldn't get it back.
Friday: More reading.
That night I called EastLink. They did everything they could on their end and... nothing. It's a problem somewhere in my computer, which is both good (it's limited to only one computer) and bad (no internet on my computer).
Saturday: Because I had to read and write so much on a fairly tight deadline, I had to forego my weekly dose of the Met (sorry, guys) as this week's opera was in English and I can't read or write and listen to singing in a language that I understand at the same time (meaning that Italian's out, as I understand enough to have a rough idea of what's going on, as is the Habañera, as I have that song memorized in French and roughly memorized in English). I'm not much of a fan of Baroque opera, but I loved The Enchanted Island when it premiered a few seasons ago (it's a fairly new pastiche--i.e., a mashup--that the Met commissioned).
Sunday: This week I have to do a presentation with a couple of my classmates on two current art shows: one local (we picked the Art Gallery of Nova Scotia) and one national. We met at school on Saturday and made our picks and then then met again on Sunday, this time at the AGNS (home of Maud Lewis' teensy little painted house). We had initially chosen one of the shows there, but ended up choosing a different show (also at the AGNS) that grabbed our attention right away and that made the initial pick seem dull in comparison. That means that we have to come up with a new pick for the national show, as the initial pick for the national one tied in with the show at the AGNS that we'd picked and then decided not to profile.
Afterward, I went back to the college and wrote for the rest of the afternoon and finished the gallery review for Twentieth-Century Art.
That evening, Tom called me on my cell and we tried to troubleshoot my internet problem. No luck.
I spent the rest of the evening--you guessed it--reading and writing. Currently, all I have to be concerned about is my midterm for Topics in Modern Canadian Art (due on Thursday--I'm so glad Carla gave us an extra week to do it) and possibly another response paper for Contemporary Indigenous Arts (I wrote one this weekend, which is number three--that means I have to write at least two more by the end of the semester). No rest for this university student.
Monday, March 3, 2014
homestretch. I can get through this.
Brace yourself for more gushing about a certain awesome violinist and friend. If it weren't for her, I have no idea where I'd be at this point. I certainly wouldn't have survived the despair during the fall semester as well as I did (and sometimes it almost pulled me under). However, there's a second victim this week.
Monday: Back to the grind. When I had a look on Sunday evening at what I had to do for the coming week, I saw that there were some readings that needed to be done for the next day, so I dug in. I continued reading on Monday, went to class and then finished the readings afterward.
Tuesday: We had a field trip to the Mount Saint Vincent University Art Gallery to view their current show, which we're to write a gallery review on. If my numbers are correct, this will be show review number five for me.
Lynn replied to an email that I sent over the break. In a postscript I'd said that I want to call her once the semester's over and I'm home because of what I've been through and the resulting need to have a good, long conversation with her. While there are a few issues to resolve as to what form the conversation's going to take (I wouldn't be surprised if we go the Skype route), THIS THING IS GOING TO HAPPEN!
I spent my appointment with Joan telling her about my break. It was also an extension of my last blog post, in that I gushed about a certain awesome friend (not the first time). As I said during the appointment in between howls of laughter, "Lynn, stop being so awesome! No, I take that back--don't stop!"
Wednesday: That day I hit a point where I couldn't wait for the semester to be over (probably my exhaustion speaking). I had another run-in with the person with whom I haven't been getting along, and let's just say that that conversation with Lynn can't come soon enough, and for a few days I kept thinking, "just a few more weeks and you'll be out of here. You'll be free. Hang in there. And remember: once this is over, YOU GET TO HAVE A NICE BIG DOSE OF LYNN'S CALM, GENTLENESS, KINDNESS AND OVERALL AWESOMENESS!" I reminded myself of that when I started to worry. Once again, Lynn was the main one keeping me going, simply by being in my life (thank you). I've decided that that call will officially mark the beginning of the healing process, because if I can start it awesomely, I will.
You know I'm almost done my degree when you start to hear about my post-school plans: figure out how to repurpose this blog, finish The Book and heal from what I've been through with the help of an awesome friend (and yes, get a job, start paying off the loan ASAP--I'm not waiting six months, as the interest will start piling up as soon as my study period ends on May first--start really getting my name out there as a photographer and update my website--it's needed an update since I started at NSCAD, but I haven't had or made the time to get it done--I'm estimating at least two afternoons of going through my projects, selecting the ones that are possibilities, whittling them down to a final selection and then resizing and posting those images).
Since I heard this song for the first time, in 2006 when André Rieu recorded it on his New York Memories album, it has always made me think of Lynn. I hadn't listened to it in several years, but I dug it out that evening. Like I said last week, I think everyone should have a friend like her: someone to whom they can go with everything, from excitement to despair.
Thursday: I got my Twentieth-Century Art exam back, and... I bombed it. As I told Jayne, I haven't done this poorly since FVA. I wasn't thrilled. Jayne suggested taking the course again, but that isn't an option: after five years of college and university, I'm champing at the bit to finish, which she understood.
As was the case after Christmas break, I was running on fumes by that day--especially since I only got about four hours of sleep the night before, which is half of what I need in order to function (don't want to think about it, don't want to think about it...).
Friday: I spent the day reading and working on my independent project. ...and had yet another run-in with the person with whom I haven't been getting along. Yep, the semester can't end soon enough. Ugh.
Though I will say that not only do I want it to be over because of what I've been through, I want it to be over because this year I finally hit the point where I was ready to be done with school (for a while: I haven't ruled out the possibility of a B.Ed. in art education).
Saturday: Mom shared this to my FB timeline that morning. Needless to say, I have to see the whole documentary--and given what I've been through, a little Mister Rogers, whose show I grew up on, is just what I need right now (again, calm, gentle, kind--I'm noticing a theme here. I know what I need in order to survive the rest of the semester and then recover.). Roughly seventeen years after I stopped watching the show five days a week every week, I'm still a devoted fan and I respect that man and his work deeply.
I spent the afternoon and evening reading and writing--and listening to the Met perform Prince Igor (which just happened to be simulcast #75). I remember when the BSO performed the Polovtsian Dances a few seasons ago (I believe it was in the season finale). I choreographed the piece, and spent almost the entire season wrestling with a particular violin part, which was incredibly frustrating, but I eventually figured out some choreography that worked.
That night, I found episode one (at least on NET, the forerunner of PBS--the show originated on CBC in '63) of what was then known as MisteRogers' Neighborhood, something that I'd wanted to see for years. Part one and part two (which, sadly, is incomplete). It's interesting seeing what's changed and what's stayed the same since that episode aired on February nineteenth, 1968 (wow). By the way, my favourite person on that show (besides Mister Rogers), Betty Aberlin, is now seventy-one--she's been on the show since the beginning. In case you're wondering, my favourite puppet has always been Queen Sara (pic here). I'm glad I watched that show when I was little: it's one of those shows that you never forget and that, even when you're twenty-five and it's been off the air (at least officially) since 2008, the last episode having originally aired in 2001, you can still hunt down on YouTube and other video streaming sites and seek comfort in. It's the only show that I watched as a kid and have returned to years later. J.K. Rowling has said that "Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home"--well, I think there should be a phrase like that for the Neighborhood, as that's how I feel about it: I've grown up, I watch other shows, that one has been off the air for six years, Mister Rogers has been dead for eleven years--but I still feel that it's home and that I can return whenever the heck I want, thanks to the internet and video-sharing sites like YouTube (sorry it's so repetitive--but I feel so strongly about that show and about Mister Rogers that I'm not going to change it).
Wherever you are, thank you, Mister Rogers.
Sunday: I found this on the CBC Music Facebook page. Brace yourself: the first movement of Beethoven's fifth--in a major key, which sounds downright weird.
I spent the afternoon and evening writing the take-home exam for Contemporary Indigenous Arts, which is due today (again, essay form--but this time I could flip through the course pack instead of trying to pull facts out of my head, which will hopefully result in a higher grade than what I got for Twentieth-Century Art). I'm still working on it, in fact. After five years of college and university, my time-management skills should be better than this...
Monday: Back to the grind. When I had a look on Sunday evening at what I had to do for the coming week, I saw that there were some readings that needed to be done for the next day, so I dug in. I continued reading on Monday, went to class and then finished the readings afterward.
Tuesday: We had a field trip to the Mount Saint Vincent University Art Gallery to view their current show, which we're to write a gallery review on. If my numbers are correct, this will be show review number five for me.
Lynn replied to an email that I sent over the break. In a postscript I'd said that I want to call her once the semester's over and I'm home because of what I've been through and the resulting need to have a good, long conversation with her. While there are a few issues to resolve as to what form the conversation's going to take (I wouldn't be surprised if we go the Skype route), THIS THING IS GOING TO HAPPEN!
I spent my appointment with Joan telling her about my break. It was also an extension of my last blog post, in that I gushed about a certain awesome friend (not the first time). As I said during the appointment in between howls of laughter, "Lynn, stop being so awesome! No, I take that back--don't stop!"
Wednesday: That day I hit a point where I couldn't wait for the semester to be over (probably my exhaustion speaking). I had another run-in with the person with whom I haven't been getting along, and let's just say that that conversation with Lynn can't come soon enough, and for a few days I kept thinking, "just a few more weeks and you'll be out of here. You'll be free. Hang in there. And remember: once this is over, YOU GET TO HAVE A NICE BIG DOSE OF LYNN'S CALM, GENTLENESS, KINDNESS AND OVERALL AWESOMENESS!" I reminded myself of that when I started to worry. Once again, Lynn was the main one keeping me going, simply by being in my life (thank you). I've decided that that call will officially mark the beginning of the healing process, because if I can start it awesomely, I will.
You know I'm almost done my degree when you start to hear about my post-school plans: figure out how to repurpose this blog, finish The Book and heal from what I've been through with the help of an awesome friend (and yes, get a job, start paying off the loan ASAP--I'm not waiting six months, as the interest will start piling up as soon as my study period ends on May first--start really getting my name out there as a photographer and update my website--it's needed an update since I started at NSCAD, but I haven't had or made the time to get it done--I'm estimating at least two afternoons of going through my projects, selecting the ones that are possibilities, whittling them down to a final selection and then resizing and posting those images).
Since I heard this song for the first time, in 2006 when André Rieu recorded it on his New York Memories album, it has always made me think of Lynn. I hadn't listened to it in several years, but I dug it out that evening. Like I said last week, I think everyone should have a friend like her: someone to whom they can go with everything, from excitement to despair.
Thursday: I got my Twentieth-Century Art exam back, and... I bombed it. As I told Jayne, I haven't done this poorly since FVA. I wasn't thrilled. Jayne suggested taking the course again, but that isn't an option: after five years of college and university, I'm champing at the bit to finish, which she understood.
As was the case after Christmas break, I was running on fumes by that day--especially since I only got about four hours of sleep the night before, which is half of what I need in order to function (don't want to think about it, don't want to think about it...).
Friday: I spent the day reading and working on my independent project. ...and had yet another run-in with the person with whom I haven't been getting along. Yep, the semester can't end soon enough. Ugh.
Though I will say that not only do I want it to be over because of what I've been through, I want it to be over because this year I finally hit the point where I was ready to be done with school (for a while: I haven't ruled out the possibility of a B.Ed. in art education).
Saturday: Mom shared this to my FB timeline that morning. Needless to say, I have to see the whole documentary--and given what I've been through, a little Mister Rogers, whose show I grew up on, is just what I need right now (again, calm, gentle, kind--I'm noticing a theme here. I know what I need in order to survive the rest of the semester and then recover.). Roughly seventeen years after I stopped watching the show five days a week every week, I'm still a devoted fan and I respect that man and his work deeply.
I spent the afternoon and evening reading and writing--and listening to the Met perform Prince Igor (which just happened to be simulcast #75). I remember when the BSO performed the Polovtsian Dances a few seasons ago (I believe it was in the season finale). I choreographed the piece, and spent almost the entire season wrestling with a particular violin part, which was incredibly frustrating, but I eventually figured out some choreography that worked.
That night, I found episode one (at least on NET, the forerunner of PBS--the show originated on CBC in '63) of what was then known as MisteRogers' Neighborhood, something that I'd wanted to see for years. Part one and part two (which, sadly, is incomplete). It's interesting seeing what's changed and what's stayed the same since that episode aired on February nineteenth, 1968 (wow). By the way, my favourite person on that show (besides Mister Rogers), Betty Aberlin, is now seventy-one--she's been on the show since the beginning. In case you're wondering, my favourite puppet has always been Queen Sara (pic here). I'm glad I watched that show when I was little: it's one of those shows that you never forget and that, even when you're twenty-five and it's been off the air (at least officially) since 2008, the last episode having originally aired in 2001, you can still hunt down on YouTube and other video streaming sites and seek comfort in. It's the only show that I watched as a kid and have returned to years later. J.K. Rowling has said that "Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home"--well, I think there should be a phrase like that for the Neighborhood, as that's how I feel about it: I've grown up, I watch other shows, that one has been off the air for six years, Mister Rogers has been dead for eleven years--but I still feel that it's home and that I can return whenever the heck I want, thanks to the internet and video-sharing sites like YouTube (sorry it's so repetitive--but I feel so strongly about that show and about Mister Rogers that I'm not going to change it).
Wherever you are, thank you, Mister Rogers.
Sunday: I found this on the CBC Music Facebook page. Brace yourself: the first movement of Beethoven's fifth--in a major key, which sounds downright weird.
I spent the afternoon and evening writing the take-home exam for Contemporary Indigenous Arts, which is due today (again, essay form--but this time I could flip through the course pack instead of trying to pull facts out of my head, which will hopefully result in a higher grade than what I got for Twentieth-Century Art). I'm still working on it, in fact. After five years of college and university, my time-management skills should be better than this...
Sunday, February 23, 2014
that time when a blog post revolves around an awesome friend
I spent the break on the couch in the sunroom, working on the gallery review for Topics in Modern Canadian Art, reading the Nutcracker conductor's score (I'm up to the part where Clara dances with the nutcracker in the party scene), working on The Book and enjoying Tom's new CD player. On Thursday night I found out that Lynn had passed her final exam in her surgical tech program with the highest grade in her class--in the words of the email that I sent to her the next day, "I erupted with shrieks and cheers--and threw myself back into my dancing with a vengeance." The Met broadcast a performance of R. Strauss' (the Thus Spake Zarathustra guy) Der Rosenkavalier yesterday and I recognized some of the tunes thanks to the Met Opera Brass' second album, Waltzes, Songs and Festive Scenes--track one is a Waltz Suite from that opera and track ten is the Final Trio. Thanks, MOB! Although this is the second time that I have heard that opera, the MOB was still a few months away from releasing Waltzes when I heard it for the first time. Thanks to them, I was humming along with the familiar pieces. I also celebrated the fact that Lynn has been playing the violin for fifty years (wow). I don't know when the anniversary is beyond the year (sometime last year or this year), so I decided a few months ago that I would celebrate during Reading Week. I also photographed Mom for my independent project.
On Saturday, I burned my journal from when I was twelve. This is the one and only time that I plan to commit such an act--there were some things in that journal that I want to keep secret forever and I have been wanting to burn it for a year or two. I'm more or less fine with other people reading the other journals and diaries that I wrote--the one that I burned was the only one that, when I think about it, makes me think, "really?? I wrote that?! I thought that?!" While I plan to live to be somewhere between a hundred and a hundred and five, I admit that I think about that journal in the context of what will be found after my life is over. What will I be comfortable with people reading? Not that journal!
March twenty-ninth will mark the tenth anniversary of the day that I told Lynn that I'd been thinking about quitting violin lessons. She'd been away for a couple weeks and although I'd talked about it with Mom, I needed to discuss it with Lynn--both because she was my violin teacher and because I just knew that talking with her about what was going around in my head would make me feel better (sometimes, talking with a specific person is all it takes).
That day, almost as soon as we were in her music room I said that that there was something I wanted to tell her. I can't remember if I'd tuned my violin by that point or not (tuning was always one of the first things that we did), though I remember that I'd taken it out of its case, put the shoulder rest on and tightened the horsehair on my bow.
When was thinking about the conversation in the weeks leading up to it, I thought that it would just be a fifteen-minute thing--NOPE! We spent about forty-five minutes (my lessons were an hour each by that point) discussing what I was going through (half of me wanted to quit, half of me didn't, which made for a big mess in my head and I was very conflicted and upset as a result), and Lynn was very supportive and kind and held me when I needed to cry. This is one of those times when I wonder how the heck I ended up with such an awesome violin teacher (this local guy who my mom approached when I was begging for violin lessons when I was six or seven wasn't taking on any new students at the time but knew someone who was--Lynn. Just think if that guy had had an open spot...).
As I talked, my voice shaking the whole time, I paced back and forth between Lynn and the piano (a baby grand, if I'm not mistaken--I found out that there are more than two sizes of grand pianos a couple nights ago). By the time we moved onto cramming a lesson into the remaining fifteen minutes, I felt much calmer about the whole situation. Thanks, Lynn. (Though it was basically the eye of the storm, as I spent much of the next afternoon sobbing.)
That was the first of three (so far) difficult times that Lynn has seen me through--the other two were the death of my granny in '06 and my current struggles. Let's face it: she's awesome. I think everyone should have at least one friend like that: someone who they can be completely themselves around and to whom they can go with everything. I have a few other friends like that, but Lynn's the one who stands out every time.
The best part: not only is this a gush-about-Lynn-to-other-people situation (not uncommon)--but as she's a reader of this blog, she gets to read it (hi!).
Even with my boycott of the Sochi Olympics, some news has still filtered in--especially Team Canada's double hockey win (both the women and the men took home the gold). During this year's Games, I've really appreciated CBC's coverage: while they do have the broadcasting rights in Canada, they have also talked about the negative side of the Games, including Russia's treatment of the LGBT community (which is why I won't be taking in a performance at the Mariinsky or Bolshoi anytime soon: even if I left my pride pin at home, I still wouldn't feel safe in Russia) and the environmental impact of this year's Olympics (it's awful).
Today's bus was another direct-to-Halifax bus (though it stopped in Moncton to pick up more passengers), and was possibly the nicest bus that I've encountered. The only thing it was missing was a wifi connection (it had plugs, though, which meant that I could work on The Book). While en route, I finished the gallery review--all I have to do is proofread it, print it off and hand it in on Thursday. As a result of the bus being direct, I arrived in Halifax about two hours earlier than expected. This evening I'm going to go through the readings for tomorrow's Contemporary Indigenous Arts class, edit the photos from the shoot with Mom and do whatever other prep I have to do for the rest of the week.
While we're on the topic of a certain awesome violinist, I might have stumbled across the program for her M.Mus. recital. I'm hunting down the various pieces on YouTube, and the first one is way too awesome to not share.
On Saturday, I burned my journal from when I was twelve. This is the one and only time that I plan to commit such an act--there were some things in that journal that I want to keep secret forever and I have been wanting to burn it for a year or two. I'm more or less fine with other people reading the other journals and diaries that I wrote--the one that I burned was the only one that, when I think about it, makes me think, "really?? I wrote that?! I thought that?!" While I plan to live to be somewhere between a hundred and a hundred and five, I admit that I think about that journal in the context of what will be found after my life is over. What will I be comfortable with people reading? Not that journal!
March twenty-ninth will mark the tenth anniversary of the day that I told Lynn that I'd been thinking about quitting violin lessons. She'd been away for a couple weeks and although I'd talked about it with Mom, I needed to discuss it with Lynn--both because she was my violin teacher and because I just knew that talking with her about what was going around in my head would make me feel better (sometimes, talking with a specific person is all it takes).
That day, almost as soon as we were in her music room I said that that there was something I wanted to tell her. I can't remember if I'd tuned my violin by that point or not (tuning was always one of the first things that we did), though I remember that I'd taken it out of its case, put the shoulder rest on and tightened the horsehair on my bow.
When was thinking about the conversation in the weeks leading up to it, I thought that it would just be a fifteen-minute thing--NOPE! We spent about forty-five minutes (my lessons were an hour each by that point) discussing what I was going through (half of me wanted to quit, half of me didn't, which made for a big mess in my head and I was very conflicted and upset as a result), and Lynn was very supportive and kind and held me when I needed to cry. This is one of those times when I wonder how the heck I ended up with such an awesome violin teacher (this local guy who my mom approached when I was begging for violin lessons when I was six or seven wasn't taking on any new students at the time but knew someone who was--Lynn. Just think if that guy had had an open spot...).
As I talked, my voice shaking the whole time, I paced back and forth between Lynn and the piano (a baby grand, if I'm not mistaken--I found out that there are more than two sizes of grand pianos a couple nights ago). By the time we moved onto cramming a lesson into the remaining fifteen minutes, I felt much calmer about the whole situation. Thanks, Lynn. (Though it was basically the eye of the storm, as I spent much of the next afternoon sobbing.)
That was the first of three (so far) difficult times that Lynn has seen me through--the other two were the death of my granny in '06 and my current struggles. Let's face it: she's awesome. I think everyone should have at least one friend like that: someone who they can be completely themselves around and to whom they can go with everything. I have a few other friends like that, but Lynn's the one who stands out every time.
The best part: not only is this a gush-about-Lynn-to-other-people situation (not uncommon)--but as she's a reader of this blog, she gets to read it (hi!).
Even with my boycott of the Sochi Olympics, some news has still filtered in--especially Team Canada's double hockey win (both the women and the men took home the gold). During this year's Games, I've really appreciated CBC's coverage: while they do have the broadcasting rights in Canada, they have also talked about the negative side of the Games, including Russia's treatment of the LGBT community (which is why I won't be taking in a performance at the Mariinsky or Bolshoi anytime soon: even if I left my pride pin at home, I still wouldn't feel safe in Russia) and the environmental impact of this year's Olympics (it's awful).
Today's bus was another direct-to-Halifax bus (though it stopped in Moncton to pick up more passengers), and was possibly the nicest bus that I've encountered. The only thing it was missing was a wifi connection (it had plugs, though, which meant that I could work on The Book). While en route, I finished the gallery review--all I have to do is proofread it, print it off and hand it in on Thursday. As a result of the bus being direct, I arrived in Halifax about two hours earlier than expected. This evening I'm going to go through the readings for tomorrow's Contemporary Indigenous Arts class, edit the photos from the shoot with Mom and do whatever other prep I have to do for the rest of the week.
While we're on the topic of a certain awesome violinist, I might have stumbled across the program for her M.Mus. recital. I'm hunting down the various pieces on YouTube, and the first one is way too awesome to not share.
Monday, February 17, 2014
stressstressstress... FREEDOM!
I'm home--and still working feverishly on my book. I've set myself a deadline of sometime in May '14. And yes, I'm obsessed.
Monday: I spent much of the day studying for the Twentieth-Century Art midterm, which was on Thursday.
Due to my workload, I'd only started work on the gallery review for Topics in Modern Canadian Art a couple days prior and was worried that I wouldn't get it done on time, so I told Carla about my situation and she gave me an extension. It's now due the Thursday after Reading Week.
That day was the first day of the Peter Gross Ball Hockey Tournament, and Photo won its game.
Tuesday: The whole class was devoted to exam prep, and by the end my hand ached.
My appointment with Joan was basically an hour-long gush session for me--everything from the fact that my friend's cancer is easily treatable (yay!) to the fact that I'm turning this blog into a book (it's going to be so weird reading about the making of said book--hi, Annapurna of the future and anyone else who reads the book--including my parents!).
Afterward I had my first shoot for my independent project, which was an interesting one, as Jack's studio is more of a hangout spot due to the fact that much of his work is performance art (don't ask me how that fits into a BFA). I spent the rest of the afternoon editing photos and studying.
Wednesday: Studying. And stressing out. All day. 'Nuff said.
Thursday: I stayed up too late studying, so I was more than a bit tired. Somehow I managed to pull through the exam and I treated myself to lunch at Cora's when it was over--after all the stress, I figured I'd earned a treat.
Friday: I'd originally planned to head home that day, but due to a storm that hit NB, I had to change the date on my ticket. I spent the day at my favourite coffee shop working on my book.
That day was the final day of the ball hockey tournament at NBCCD. Photo made it to the finals, but had to settle for second place. You can read about the tournament here (including Photo's first game), here, here (including Photo's second game) and here (the final). You can admire the trophy here.
That day was the final day of the ball hockey tournament at NBCCD. Photo made it to the finals, but had to settle for second place. You can read about the tournament here (including Photo's first game), here, here (including Photo's second game) and here (the final). You can admire the trophy here.
Saturday: Up and at 'em. Way too early and on only five hours of sleep. After a bit of a scuffle (won't say anything beyond the fact that it's related to what I went through in the Fall) I hurried down to the lobby where I called a cab--and made my first-ever request: I needed a cab right then because I was in danger of missing the bus. Within minutes, a cab was pulling up to the door.
I got to the bus station just as they were boarding (whew!) and spent a couple hours--you guessed it--working on The Book. I worked on it until my computer's battery started to get low (BookSmart is a bit of a power-suck). The bus between Halifax and Moncton was rather cantankerous and a few times I wondered if we were going to be on time. The driver had to pull over a few times and while we were still in the station he took the keys out--and the thing kept on running until he did something (probably under the hood) to shut it off. Freaky. We did get to Moncton, though--and just as I entered the station, they announced the bus that was headed to F'ton (usually I have to wait for about half an hour).
When I finally got to the F'ton station, I only had to wait a few minutes until Mom arrived. After I asked about changing my ticket over the phone (there's a possibility of another storm on Sunday--grrr...), we drove home, talking most of the way (everything from the latest news about Ca-r-ma--a cat TNR group that she volunteers with--to whether or not rites of passage--which are an important part of various religions and indigenous cultures but are, for the most part, nonexistent in secular Western culture--are necessary (I say yes).
Tom bought a new CD player this winter, as the old one had bit the dust. He'd told me that the new one is the best we've ever had, so I was itching to try it out. I put on the last track from Hika--and once again, Trond knocked my socks off: the sound was so clear. The best way I can describe it is by using a Claritin ad as an analogy: the old CD player is the part of the ad that has the film over it. The sound was really good, but at the end of the day the sound was that of any old CD player. With the new player, the sound was richer and revealed things that most other CD players would miss (the film has come off). Trond might as well have been playing in the sunroom, where the sound system is.
Sunday: I'd planned to get work done on the gallery review and a few other things, like studying the Nutcracker conductors' score. But although I dug said score out, I spent the day--yep--working on The Book.
Monday: While I'm still obsessively working on The Book, I've managed to work on the other stuff as well.
Monday: While I'm still obsessively working on The Book, I've managed to work on the other stuff as well.
Sunday, February 9, 2014
the fun of midterms
The fun keeps happening. **sarcasm** Also, midterms. **gulp**
Monday: I got bus tickets on the way to school. This will be my final time doing so to come home for break.
Tuesday: A friend with whom I hadn't been getting along with for a long time and I finally sat down and talked--and she told me that she has breast cancer. The tumour's pretty big, and she doesn't know whether or not she'll survive. I sobbed through much of our talk, I felt so bad for her. She choked up a couple times, too, but didn't turn into a complete mess, unlike me.
After my appointment with Joan, I spent the day doing homework and that night I snapped. After what I went through last semester, Stan's death and now this, I'd had enough and I became furious with the gods.
Wednesday: I emailed Lynn late-Tuesday/early-Wednesday and exploded, taking out a lot of my rage and fear on her (though I made it clear that said rage wasn't directed at her: I was angry with the gods, having gone through so much over the last few months and I'd finally reached my breaking point, as I think of this in the context of the entire year). That night I would've been happy to find an empty room somewhere and let loose and scream and yell until I couldn't anymore.
These pieces describe how I felt perfectly. Brace yourself. If you've seen Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World, you might recognize the first one.
During my first lesson with my full-size violin (September 10, 2001), Lynn played this piece on said violin--and I fell in love with the composition immediately. Since then, it has been a piece that I turn to when I need something that I know will comfort me. Thanks, Lynn!
And this one pretty much sums it all up:
Thursday: My afternoon class was canceled because Carla was sick so I used the time to get a head-start on my weekend homework load and run some errands.
Friday: As promised back in the summer, I spent the day listening to Tchaikovsky while finishing the readings for Contemporary Indigenous Arts.
Saturday: On the way to school, I noticed that Halifax had raised the gay pride flag in the Grand Parade. I stopped and took some photos (the one below is from today)--and suspected that it was a show of solidarity with the LGBT community in Russia. Turns out, I was right. When I googled it, I found out that Fredericton and Moncton have also raised the pride flag at their city halls (go New Brunswick!). I have no words for how excited I felt when I saw the flag in Halifax. Now, whenever I pass the Grand Parade on my way to or from school, I look at the flag and smile: pride flags and rainbows in general make me happy, but pride flags being raised in solidarity with Russia's LGBT community, which many Canadian cities are doing, make me even happier (shut up, Rob Ford).
I missed the live broadcast of Rusalka (the story reminds me of Anderson's The Little Mermaid)--so I listened to it in Mountain Time, which, on CBC at least (I don't know about other networks in other countries), meant that it wasn't live. As I'd expected, Song to the Moon was spectacular.
I'd planned to do the first shoot for my independent project that evening, but the guy who was supposed to pose is sick so we rescheduled for this coming week ('tis the season).
While waiting for my laundry that evening I finally started turning this blog into a book using Blurb BookSmart. I'd tried a few times using BookSmart's blog-to-book feature, but it always stalled after importing my photos. I finally decided to give up on that method and copy and paste the text myself, post by post. I'm finding BookSmart clunky and slow (seriously, Blurb??), but at least I'm able to start work on my dream. I'm looking at a trade-size hardcover book with full-colour photos. Based on what I've done so far (up to Christmas break '09), I'm looking at about a two hundred page book and around 100,000 words(!)--not bad for five years of college and university. My current plan is to copy the posts that I wrote during the school year and possibly the posts that I wrote during the summer breaks. Some of the summer posts are referenced in posts written during the school year (e.g., the posts that I wrote as I figured out how I was going to approach the Sochi Games). I also want to do a table of contents, which will be interesting. Between this and more study of the Nutcracker conductors' score (can't wait!), reading week will fly by.
Sunday: I spent much of the day writing and stressing about midterms (seriously, my time management skills should be better than this by now). BTW, I only have two midterms to worry about right now: the one for Topics in Modern Canadian Art isn't until after the break.
Monday: I got bus tickets on the way to school. This will be my final time doing so to come home for break.
Tuesday: A friend with whom I hadn't been getting along with for a long time and I finally sat down and talked--and she told me that she has breast cancer. The tumour's pretty big, and she doesn't know whether or not she'll survive. I sobbed through much of our talk, I felt so bad for her. She choked up a couple times, too, but didn't turn into a complete mess, unlike me.
After my appointment with Joan, I spent the day doing homework and that night I snapped. After what I went through last semester, Stan's death and now this, I'd had enough and I became furious with the gods.
Wednesday: I emailed Lynn late-Tuesday/early-Wednesday and exploded, taking out a lot of my rage and fear on her (though I made it clear that said rage wasn't directed at her: I was angry with the gods, having gone through so much over the last few months and I'd finally reached my breaking point, as I think of this in the context of the entire year). That night I would've been happy to find an empty room somewhere and let loose and scream and yell until I couldn't anymore.
These pieces describe how I felt perfectly. Brace yourself. If you've seen Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World, you might recognize the first one.
During my first lesson with my full-size violin (September 10, 2001), Lynn played this piece on said violin--and I fell in love with the composition immediately. Since then, it has been a piece that I turn to when I need something that I know will comfort me. Thanks, Lynn!
And this one pretty much sums it all up:
Thursday: My afternoon class was canceled because Carla was sick so I used the time to get a head-start on my weekend homework load and run some errands.
Friday: As promised back in the summer, I spent the day listening to Tchaikovsky while finishing the readings for Contemporary Indigenous Arts.
Saturday: On the way to school, I noticed that Halifax had raised the gay pride flag in the Grand Parade. I stopped and took some photos (the one below is from today)--and suspected that it was a show of solidarity with the LGBT community in Russia. Turns out, I was right. When I googled it, I found out that Fredericton and Moncton have also raised the pride flag at their city halls (go New Brunswick!). I have no words for how excited I felt when I saw the flag in Halifax. Now, whenever I pass the Grand Parade on my way to or from school, I look at the flag and smile: pride flags and rainbows in general make me happy, but pride flags being raised in solidarity with Russia's LGBT community, which many Canadian cities are doing, make me even happier (shut up, Rob Ford).
I'd planned to do the first shoot for my independent project that evening, but the guy who was supposed to pose is sick so we rescheduled for this coming week ('tis the season).
While waiting for my laundry that evening I finally started turning this blog into a book using Blurb BookSmart. I'd tried a few times using BookSmart's blog-to-book feature, but it always stalled after importing my photos. I finally decided to give up on that method and copy and paste the text myself, post by post. I'm finding BookSmart clunky and slow (seriously, Blurb??), but at least I'm able to start work on my dream. I'm looking at a trade-size hardcover book with full-colour photos. Based on what I've done so far (up to Christmas break '09), I'm looking at about a two hundred page book and around 100,000 words(!)--not bad for five years of college and university. My current plan is to copy the posts that I wrote during the school year and possibly the posts that I wrote during the summer breaks. Some of the summer posts are referenced in posts written during the school year (e.g., the posts that I wrote as I figured out how I was going to approach the Sochi Games). I also want to do a table of contents, which will be interesting. Between this and more study of the Nutcracker conductors' score (can't wait!), reading week will fly by.
Sunday: I spent much of the day writing and stressing about midterms (seriously, my time management skills should be better than this by now). BTW, I only have two midterms to worry about right now: the one for Topics in Modern Canadian Art isn't until after the break.
Monday, February 3, 2014
critiquing artists in the Canadian canon and toi, toi, toi*, Renée
If you know one thing about Canadian art history, it's the Group of Seven. Thing is, that's all I've heard about Canadian art history, and it's made me think, there has to be more to Canadian art than this! ...right?
Monday: I submitted a call for participants for my independent project to the NOW bulletin, which is published by the NSCAD Service Centre and distributed throughout the school three times a week.
Tuesday: Over lunch, there was a meeting about the grad show and catalogue. We can do either one or both, and both are voluntary, unlike NBCCD's grad show, which is a requirement of all the programs. I'm considering submitting stuff to the catalogue but not the show because of the cost of shipping my photos on top of the cost of mats and frames (Canada Post ain't cheap).
I was supposed to have an appointment with Joan that afternoon, but it was canceled because she was sick. I used the extra hour to get stuff done.
Wednesday: At the beginning of the semester, I had a look in The Plaid Place, which sells Scottish stuff, and checked out their tartan scarves. I have a Moffatt tartan scarf, but it's way too scratchy for me. The lady told me that they'd be having their annual sale (fifty per cent off) in the last week of January and the first week of February. On Wednesday I finally bought myself a scarf--or two. As I didn't have anything with the Johnston tartan (Mom's family--unfortunately, that tartan doesn't reproduce well: in addition to the gold stripe, it has dark blue, forest green and black) on it, I decided to get a Johnston tartan scarf as well.
While I did get stuff done, my time management was really bad and I was up until 2:00 AM studying for Thursday's classes...
Thursday: ...which meant that I only got about five hours of sleep, which is less than I get on Christmas (unless there's a power outage, I'm in bed at midnight and then up at 6:30 to put the cinnamon buns in the oven--and I'm someone who needs eight to nine hours of sleep a night in order to be happy).
Jayne spent the first part of class talking about the midterm exam, which will be my first-ever essay-format exam (all others have been multiple choice or fill-in-the-blank style). After class, I had a bunch of questions for her because I was new to doing an exam that way.
In between classes, I studied for Contemporary Indigenous Arts as I wanted to get a good start on the week's readings.
And yes, this week's Topics in Modern Canadian Art was about the Group of Seven. However, for the first time in my life, I was in a setting where there was freedom to actually think critically about the Group--in fact, one of the readings for this week took a step back and actually examined the Group and the National Art Gallery's role in promoting those artists to death. Apparently, the NGC's attitude has been, "if you don't like the Group of Seven, you're not Canadian or not patriotic" (which means I'm screwed: minus Harper, I love this country--but I like the Group of Seven about as much as I like Ketil Hvoslef: they're good, but not my style). I've been raised to think critically, and it's bothered me that no one has done that with the Group of Seven (at least as far as I could tell). Sure, I don't question the composers in the classical canon--but then again, I like most of them. And even with the ones that I don't like, I feel no pressure to like them and treat them like they're the best thing since music notation.
That evening I got my first response to the notice that I put on the SUNSCAD Facebook group, advertising for participants for my project.
Friday: During Helen's and my Skype chat/memorial service, she told me that she was going to be in Halifax a couple of weeks from then and we started making plans to meet. Friday was the big day and I met her on the first floor of the NSCAD library (it has three floors) and we talked for a while. Eventually Helen had to go put more money in the parking meter. On our way out, I said "hi" to Ken, who was also in the library and introduced him and Helen. The two talked for a while, discussing artist stuff. Also, yay, networking. After Helen fed the meter, we went in the NSCAD Art Supply Store's street door, as she wanted to get some supplies (unlike NBCCD's store, the NSCAD store is open to the public). Turns out, she knows Neil, the storekeeper. We finished with a thorough tour of the photo dept.--and a good, long chat with Alex and Chris (also: yay for all the random things you learn at art school. Today's topic: gardening.).
Saturday: I spent the day studying and listening to the Met.
I'm considering going to the simulcast of La Bohème. While I can afford it, the issue is that it's right at the end of the semester and therefore I'll be in the midst of studying for final exams and putting the final touches on my photo project. Keep your fingers crossed, everyone! I'd love to finish my time at university with a good Met Opera/MOO/favourite opera-induced sob-fest (Bohème never fails to turn me into a sobbing wreck in act four).
Because the BSO played a pops concert featuring the music of John Williams that evening, I thought I'd share my favourite pieces by him, some of which were on the program. Enjoy. What I would've given to hear the BSO play the Indiana Jones and Schindler's List themes...
You'll have to go to YouTube to view this one:
I still remember the time the BSO reduced me to tears with the Star Wars theme:
Sunday: Once again, I spent the day reading--while listening to opera on CBC Music in celebration of Renée Fleming's performance at the Super Bowl, which I was super-excited about (I was positively giddy as I wrote about the upcoming performance in an email to Lynn Saturday evening, and I think my excitement came across in my writing).
If you've ever wondered about Renée's vocal range--wonder no more. Long story short: it's impressive--yet another reason why she's my favourite soprano. I have always wondered about the numbers that followed note names, as in the video below, and I finally looked it up.
The video is included in this list on BuzzFeed.
Back in August, Suzanne Nance opened her final broadcast on MPBN with O mio babbino caro from Gianni Schicchi, as sung by Renée:
I know I've shared a lot of videos (eight, to be exact) with you guys already, but I promise this is the last one. How can I deny those of you who weren't lucky enough to see Renée's performance of The Star-Spangled Banner live the joy of said performance, which was the first time an opera singer sang the national anthem at the Super Bowl? As I watched--with tears in my eyes because her singing was so beautiful--I was thinking about the significance of her performance. This is what I had been gearing up for and getting excited about since yesterday. BRAVA, RENÉE!
*"Toi, toi, toi" is the opera equivalent of "break a leg".
Monday: I submitted a call for participants for my independent project to the NOW bulletin, which is published by the NSCAD Service Centre and distributed throughout the school three times a week.
Tuesday: Over lunch, there was a meeting about the grad show and catalogue. We can do either one or both, and both are voluntary, unlike NBCCD's grad show, which is a requirement of all the programs. I'm considering submitting stuff to the catalogue but not the show because of the cost of shipping my photos on top of the cost of mats and frames (Canada Post ain't cheap).
I was supposed to have an appointment with Joan that afternoon, but it was canceled because she was sick. I used the extra hour to get stuff done.
Wednesday: At the beginning of the semester, I had a look in The Plaid Place, which sells Scottish stuff, and checked out their tartan scarves. I have a Moffatt tartan scarf, but it's way too scratchy for me. The lady told me that they'd be having their annual sale (fifty per cent off) in the last week of January and the first week of February. On Wednesday I finally bought myself a scarf--or two. As I didn't have anything with the Johnston tartan (Mom's family--unfortunately, that tartan doesn't reproduce well: in addition to the gold stripe, it has dark blue, forest green and black) on it, I decided to get a Johnston tartan scarf as well.
While I did get stuff done, my time management was really bad and I was up until 2:00 AM studying for Thursday's classes...
Thursday: ...which meant that I only got about five hours of sleep, which is less than I get on Christmas (unless there's a power outage, I'm in bed at midnight and then up at 6:30 to put the cinnamon buns in the oven--and I'm someone who needs eight to nine hours of sleep a night in order to be happy).
Jayne spent the first part of class talking about the midterm exam, which will be my first-ever essay-format exam (all others have been multiple choice or fill-in-the-blank style). After class, I had a bunch of questions for her because I was new to doing an exam that way.
In between classes, I studied for Contemporary Indigenous Arts as I wanted to get a good start on the week's readings.
And yes, this week's Topics in Modern Canadian Art was about the Group of Seven. However, for the first time in my life, I was in a setting where there was freedom to actually think critically about the Group--in fact, one of the readings for this week took a step back and actually examined the Group and the National Art Gallery's role in promoting those artists to death. Apparently, the NGC's attitude has been, "if you don't like the Group of Seven, you're not Canadian or not patriotic" (which means I'm screwed: minus Harper, I love this country--but I like the Group of Seven about as much as I like Ketil Hvoslef: they're good, but not my style). I've been raised to think critically, and it's bothered me that no one has done that with the Group of Seven (at least as far as I could tell). Sure, I don't question the composers in the classical canon--but then again, I like most of them. And even with the ones that I don't like, I feel no pressure to like them and treat them like they're the best thing since music notation.
That evening I got my first response to the notice that I put on the SUNSCAD Facebook group, advertising for participants for my project.
Friday: During Helen's and my Skype chat/memorial service, she told me that she was going to be in Halifax a couple of weeks from then and we started making plans to meet. Friday was the big day and I met her on the first floor of the NSCAD library (it has three floors) and we talked for a while. Eventually Helen had to go put more money in the parking meter. On our way out, I said "hi" to Ken, who was also in the library and introduced him and Helen. The two talked for a while, discussing artist stuff. Also, yay, networking. After Helen fed the meter, we went in the NSCAD Art Supply Store's street door, as she wanted to get some supplies (unlike NBCCD's store, the NSCAD store is open to the public). Turns out, she knows Neil, the storekeeper. We finished with a thorough tour of the photo dept.--and a good, long chat with Alex and Chris (also: yay for all the random things you learn at art school. Today's topic: gardening.).
Saturday: I spent the day studying and listening to the Met.
I'm considering going to the simulcast of La Bohème. While I can afford it, the issue is that it's right at the end of the semester and therefore I'll be in the midst of studying for final exams and putting the final touches on my photo project. Keep your fingers crossed, everyone! I'd love to finish my time at university with a good Met Opera/MOO/favourite opera-induced sob-fest (Bohème never fails to turn me into a sobbing wreck in act four).
Because the BSO played a pops concert featuring the music of John Williams that evening, I thought I'd share my favourite pieces by him, some of which were on the program. Enjoy. What I would've given to hear the BSO play the Indiana Jones and Schindler's List themes...
You'll have to go to YouTube to view this one:
I still remember the time the BSO reduced me to tears with the Star Wars theme:
Sunday: Once again, I spent the day reading--while listening to opera on CBC Music in celebration of Renée Fleming's performance at the Super Bowl, which I was super-excited about (I was positively giddy as I wrote about the upcoming performance in an email to Lynn Saturday evening, and I think my excitement came across in my writing).
If you've ever wondered about Renée's vocal range--wonder no more. Long story short: it's impressive--yet another reason why she's my favourite soprano. I have always wondered about the numbers that followed note names, as in the video below, and I finally looked it up.
The video is included in this list on BuzzFeed.
Back in August, Suzanne Nance opened her final broadcast on MPBN with O mio babbino caro from Gianni Schicchi, as sung by Renée:
I know I've shared a lot of videos (eight, to be exact) with you guys already, but I promise this is the last one. How can I deny those of you who weren't lucky enough to see Renée's performance of The Star-Spangled Banner live the joy of said performance, which was the first time an opera singer sang the national anthem at the Super Bowl? As I watched--with tears in my eyes because her singing was so beautiful--I was thinking about the significance of her performance. This is what I had been gearing up for and getting excited about since yesterday. BRAVA, RENÉE!
*"Toi, toi, toi" is the opera equivalent of "break a leg".
Sunday, January 26, 2014
the roller-coaster is over--for now
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.
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.
Sunday, January 19, 2014
saying goodbye is never easy...
...and sometimes it's downright painful. I won't lie: this week has been both good and rough, and no matter how well I slept the night before, every night except Saturday night I crashed into bed due to the exhaustion brought on by my grief over Stan's death. Thankfully, there are those things known as email and Facebook--and Mom and I have made good use of both.
Also: every week I try to tell the story of that week as honestly as possible, usually editing only for grammar and clarity. Having said that, this week's post is extremely raw and emotional at times, due to both my commitment to honesty and where I was emotionally when I wrote this post, which I did over the course of four days. You might want to grab some kleenexes before proceeding. You have been warned.
Monday: I met with Adrian, and he suggested that I do the project, but not as part of a course. He will meet with me periodically.
I got the reading situation for Carla's classes sorted out. Hello, marathon reading sessions for the rest of the week.
My part of the APC show (Photographs) opened at the Anna Leonowens Gallery and was well-received. It looks awesome.
Tuesday: I had a meeting with Joan after Twentieth-Century Art. Toward the end of the appointment, I told her about Stan's death--and burst into tears. I shared with her some of the things I loved about him--and that I miss. I knew his death had to hit hard at some point. I think it was obvious how much he meant to me.
I spent the rest of the afternoon studying and then made a card for Ruth (Stan's wife). I couldn't write the message for the card without crying--a fact that I put in said message.
Wednesday: I mailed the card and then spent the rest of the day catching up on readings for my courses.
Eventually, I tore myself away from my reading to zip down to the Port Loggia Gallery for the opening of the rest of the APC show. ...and then it was back to reading.
Thursday: Due to staying up a bit too late the night before, I had to fight to stay awake in class that morning (sorry, Jayne).
In between classes I went to St. Mary's Cathedral Basilica (which woke me up--sometimes a good, brisk walk a few hours after the coffee has worked as much magic as it's going to helps--for a few hours, at least). While I'm not Catholic (I'm Eclectic Pagan), I wanted to light a candle for Stan and had felt the urge to do so for a couple of days. I wanted to feel the sense of peace that almost always comes over me when entering a place of worship, regardless of faith. I did some intense googling Wednesday night, and the only church that I found that listed their hours was St. Mary's--and they have a little blurb on the side of one of the pages that says that "visitors are invited to light vigil candles when visiting the church." PERFECT!
After lighting a candle (one of the tea lights--they also had gargantuan votives), I chose a pew at the back (one of the ones with a padded kneeling bench--awesome! I don't think I've ever seen a padded one in a Catholic church before.) and prayed. On my way out, I stopped for a few minutes and watched my candle burn, thinking about Stan and remembering the last time I saw him (this past summer, which was my last time talking with him and the last time I hugged him. Writing that sentence when I started writing this post on Thursday evening triggered a massive, violent sob-attack--there's no other way to describe it. Sometimes the fact that my honorary grandfather, a man I loved dearly, who always had a smile for me and was always a joy to be around, is dead hits me with the force of a semi truck. I miss you, Stan. I miss you. Terribly.) and silently crying. I then got lunch and headed back to class.
Afterward, I continued the readings while listening to the recording of Beethoven's Missa Solemnis that I got for Christmas (this recording). During times like this, there are always at least three things that help me: my faith (whatever it happens to be: I've converted twice already, with an average of ten years between switches), talking about it with friends and music. Specifically music like the Missa Solemnis or the second movement from the Emperor Concerto or the second movement from Beethoven's seventh (notice a theme here? I firmly believe that Beethoven wrote something for every mood, every moment in life, and I often turn to him, in both the good times and the bad.).
If you're curious, here's Stan's obit--with a photo (I completely lost it when I saw the photo). That smile--which I'll never see in real life again. Unfortunately, the site is one of those where you can only read a few articles before it asks you to subscribe. I made a PDF of both his death notice (also posted on that paper's site) and his obit.
Friday: In the wee hours of that morning, I finally put together what I'd been aching for for a couple of days: a playlist of tracks that, when I listen to them, go straight to my soul. In my usual style, I went through iTunes and put everything that sounded like it might be suitable in the playlist. Miraculously, the whole thing fit (though barely) on my 2GB second-generation iPod Nano, along with everything else that I have on there (I had to dump a couple playlists, though). Three hours of peaceful music, some sacred, some secular--everything from the second movement of the Emperor Concerto to Ase's Death to Rachmaninov's Vespers. Done.
That afternoon, I had an appointment with Shawna (the registrar) to tell her what I was up to with regards to the independent study. She asked me how I was, and I told her that there were two parts to the answer: my classes were going well, but a close friend who was like a grandfather to me had died almost a week ago. I couldn't talk about Stan's death without my voice getting shaky. We also sorted a few things out on my audit work sheet.
I spent the rest of the day studying, and when Becky (remember her?) came into the computer lab and asked me how I was, I told her everything--and sobbed in her arms. She's right: I have had a rough year (though I know how to deal with what I'm currently going through, having felt the pain of grief before). One of the security guards who works the 4:00 PM - 12:00 AM shift during the week, Bill, had seen me when I told Jake what was going on, saw that I was really upset and a few minutes before he needed to start making the rounds (one person from that shift of security guards has to go through the entire school in two hours--there are two people and while one sits at the front desk, the other goes through the school) came to see what was up. I told him--and sobbed. He comforted me in his weird, awesome way.
Saturday: I spent the afternoon studying, listening to opera (an archive performance from earlier this season of Eugene Onegin) and, especially at 2:30, thinking of Stan and his wife, Ruth (2:30 was when the funeral was).
That evening, Helen (my old mentor from my last year at NBCCD and a family friend) and I skyped. It made up for the fact that I was unable to go to the funeral (I really wanted to go): we shared stories about Stan and Ruth, I read her the message that I'd written in the sympathy card, I cried... When I'm going through something like this and am able to have a good, long conversation about the person who's died and what I'm going through, I regard it as sacred. And while all the things that I'd done prior to Helen's and my chat helped a little, our chat really helped. We both think of it as our own memorial service.
I am incredibly thankful to everyone who's helped me through this terribly sad time.
That night I finally got caught up on my readings. Whew! Now I'll have more time for other things--including my independent project!
Sunday: When I woke up today, I felt a lot better: I didn't feel so weighted down by grief. I still miss Stan, but it isn't as intense.
I spent the afternoon doing the readings for Twentieth-Century Art and started the readings for this week's Topics in Modern Canadian Art this evening.
Also: every week I try to tell the story of that week as honestly as possible, usually editing only for grammar and clarity. Having said that, this week's post is extremely raw and emotional at times, due to both my commitment to honesty and where I was emotionally when I wrote this post, which I did over the course of four days. You might want to grab some kleenexes before proceeding. You have been warned.
This post is dedicated to the memory of Stan Hart.
I got the reading situation for Carla's classes sorted out. Hello, marathon reading sessions for the rest of the week.
My part of the APC show (Photographs) opened at the Anna Leonowens Gallery and was well-received. It looks awesome.
Tuesday: I had a meeting with Joan after Twentieth-Century Art. Toward the end of the appointment, I told her about Stan's death--and burst into tears. I shared with her some of the things I loved about him--and that I miss. I knew his death had to hit hard at some point. I think it was obvious how much he meant to me.
I spent the rest of the afternoon studying and then made a card for Ruth (Stan's wife). I couldn't write the message for the card without crying--a fact that I put in said message.
Wednesday: I mailed the card and then spent the rest of the day catching up on readings for my courses.
Eventually, I tore myself away from my reading to zip down to the Port Loggia Gallery for the opening of the rest of the APC show. ...and then it was back to reading.
Thursday: Due to staying up a bit too late the night before, I had to fight to stay awake in class that morning (sorry, Jayne).
In between classes I went to St. Mary's Cathedral Basilica (which woke me up--sometimes a good, brisk walk a few hours after the coffee has worked as much magic as it's going to helps--for a few hours, at least). While I'm not Catholic (I'm Eclectic Pagan), I wanted to light a candle for Stan and had felt the urge to do so for a couple of days. I wanted to feel the sense of peace that almost always comes over me when entering a place of worship, regardless of faith. I did some intense googling Wednesday night, and the only church that I found that listed their hours was St. Mary's--and they have a little blurb on the side of one of the pages that says that "visitors are invited to light vigil candles when visiting the church." PERFECT!
After lighting a candle (one of the tea lights--they also had gargantuan votives), I chose a pew at the back (one of the ones with a padded kneeling bench--awesome! I don't think I've ever seen a padded one in a Catholic church before.) and prayed. On my way out, I stopped for a few minutes and watched my candle burn, thinking about Stan and remembering the last time I saw him (this past summer, which was my last time talking with him and the last time I hugged him. Writing that sentence when I started writing this post on Thursday evening triggered a massive, violent sob-attack--there's no other way to describe it. Sometimes the fact that my honorary grandfather, a man I loved dearly, who always had a smile for me and was always a joy to be around, is dead hits me with the force of a semi truck. I miss you, Stan. I miss you. Terribly.) and silently crying. I then got lunch and headed back to class.
Afterward, I continued the readings while listening to the recording of Beethoven's Missa Solemnis that I got for Christmas (this recording). During times like this, there are always at least three things that help me: my faith (whatever it happens to be: I've converted twice already, with an average of ten years between switches), talking about it with friends and music. Specifically music like the Missa Solemnis or the second movement from the Emperor Concerto or the second movement from Beethoven's seventh (notice a theme here? I firmly believe that Beethoven wrote something for every mood, every moment in life, and I often turn to him, in both the good times and the bad.).
If you're curious, here's Stan's obit--with a photo (I completely lost it when I saw the photo). That smile--which I'll never see in real life again. Unfortunately, the site is one of those where you can only read a few articles before it asks you to subscribe. I made a PDF of both his death notice (also posted on that paper's site) and his obit.
Friday: In the wee hours of that morning, I finally put together what I'd been aching for for a couple of days: a playlist of tracks that, when I listen to them, go straight to my soul. In my usual style, I went through iTunes and put everything that sounded like it might be suitable in the playlist. Miraculously, the whole thing fit (though barely) on my 2GB second-generation iPod Nano, along with everything else that I have on there (I had to dump a couple playlists, though). Three hours of peaceful music, some sacred, some secular--everything from the second movement of the Emperor Concerto to Ase's Death to Rachmaninov's Vespers. Done.
That afternoon, I had an appointment with Shawna (the registrar) to tell her what I was up to with regards to the independent study. She asked me how I was, and I told her that there were two parts to the answer: my classes were going well, but a close friend who was like a grandfather to me had died almost a week ago. I couldn't talk about Stan's death without my voice getting shaky. We also sorted a few things out on my audit work sheet.
I spent the rest of the day studying, and when Becky (remember her?) came into the computer lab and asked me how I was, I told her everything--and sobbed in her arms. She's right: I have had a rough year (though I know how to deal with what I'm currently going through, having felt the pain of grief before). One of the security guards who works the 4:00 PM - 12:00 AM shift during the week, Bill, had seen me when I told Jake what was going on, saw that I was really upset and a few minutes before he needed to start making the rounds (one person from that shift of security guards has to go through the entire school in two hours--there are two people and while one sits at the front desk, the other goes through the school) came to see what was up. I told him--and sobbed. He comforted me in his weird, awesome way.
Saturday: I spent the afternoon studying, listening to opera (an archive performance from earlier this season of Eugene Onegin) and, especially at 2:30, thinking of Stan and his wife, Ruth (2:30 was when the funeral was).
That evening, Helen (my old mentor from my last year at NBCCD and a family friend) and I skyped. It made up for the fact that I was unable to go to the funeral (I really wanted to go): we shared stories about Stan and Ruth, I read her the message that I'd written in the sympathy card, I cried... When I'm going through something like this and am able to have a good, long conversation about the person who's died and what I'm going through, I regard it as sacred. And while all the things that I'd done prior to Helen's and my chat helped a little, our chat really helped. We both think of it as our own memorial service.
I am incredibly thankful to everyone who's helped me through this terribly sad time.
Sunday: When I woke up today, I felt a lot better: I didn't feel so weighted down by grief. I still miss Stan, but it isn't as intense.
I spent the afternoon doing the readings for Twentieth-Century Art and started the readings for this week's Topics in Modern Canadian Art this evening.
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