hello F'ton, my old friend

I'll admit it: it feels so good to be back in Fredericton and the photo studio. My god--I'm a senior! I'm in my final year of art school (or at least, this art school). And I feel like I've been thrown into the semester. Whammo.

This weekend I've been brainstorming ideas for my first independent project (because I don't have class on Fridays, yesterday felt like the weekend had already started for me, and I was mixed up as to which day it was all day, even though my computer said up in the right-hand corner that it was Friday). After I post this I'm going to start writing the proposal for the project.

I can already feel myself slipping into old, familiar habits: same route to school, same computer in Photoshop class, same chair in the photo studio classroom, same way of labelling school assignments that are handed in via the college server ("assignment name - Annapurna.file type").

The college's expansion into the Soldiers' Barracks still isn't finished--they've been working on it since my FVA year. That's three years! Even worse, we Photogs aren't going to get our new lighting studio (Peter's not happy about that, and neither am I). Here's proof of how bad the situation is in the current studio:

There's a white backdrop about a foot or two to the right perpendicular to where the black one ends. The stand with the paint tray on it is used for photographing small things, like jewellery.

See the pipes? And the location of the rolled-up backdrops? And the beams? In an ideal situation, you'd have to look wayyyyyy up in order to see that junk (minus pipes, which shouldn't be visible at all if the building is to meet code)--like this or this. I'm no neat-freak, but yuck! Also, the whole studio is way too small for us, in terms of width and length.

Currently, the only students allowed in the Barracks are Graphics majors/teachers, because they have some classes over there.

Time to rehash the week. Here we go.

Sunday: Packpackpackpack pack--and then after that, more packing, including loading stuff into Mom's Highlander. By the end, I was worn out.

Monday: After a mostly-sleepless night, I was up bright and early to do last-minute packing and drive to Freddytown. I snoozed on the way up, and after getting my keys for the year (mailbox, room, house and food-locker) I unpacked everything, and somehow made all my food fit into my cupboard, spot in the fridge, bin in the freezer and food locker. Whew!

Tuesday: I spent part of the afternoon running a couple of errands downtown. I paid my tuition (though I didn't get my access card until a day or two later, and it has yet to be set up so that I can access the lighting studio), visited with Karen (who's no longer my teacher) and did some minor shopping.

Karen said that she's having her Communication for Visual Artists students set up blogs right from the start this year (we were a few weeks in before we had to start our blogs last year), and the blog is a more central part of the class now.

I also got a new student ID photo, as did everyone else. And this time, I'm happy. My previous student ID photo was taken after orientation in my FVA year, which was a very long day, and I was tired and my exhaustion shows in the photo: I want to smile, but although I'm kinda smiling, I'm too tired to put much effort into it.

Wednesday: First day of classes. That morning, I had Photoshop and in the afternoon I had a lighting class. I'm proud to say that I haven't lost much (if any) of my confidence in the lighting studio. I'm still not a full convert (as I said to Lynn, Molly and Gene at the PBSO concert in June, I'm a thrill-seeker when it comes to photography--in the studio, you're in complete control, and although it's fun, after a while I start to find it too predictable), but I know my way around. And except for the fact that on-camera timers don't exactly work when you're doing self-portraits and you're several feet away from the camera when the photo is finally taken (the camera focuses right away), I'm much happier with the results from this shoot than with anything that I shot last year. Thankfully, Photoshop Camera RAW does a pretty good sharpening job.

I've decided that this semester, I'm going to try to have as much fun as possible with my lighting assignments, and figure out how to use the lighting studio creatively.

Thursday: Advanced Digital Projects is listed as a six-hour course, but we were done with the in-class part in an hour. However, that wasn't the end of the fun: each of us had a one-on-one meeting with Peter. Mine was at 1:50, and let's just say that if I'm going to make it as a photographer, I'm going to have to confront my issues with commercial-type photography. I was thinking about it that evening, and if I were to sum up my relationship with commercial photography in a Facebook relationship status, I'd check the "it's complicated" box. In fact, if there were an "it's really complicated" box, I'd check that instead. I'm much more into artsy-type photography, and I need creativity like I need air.

That's the best I can do at trying to describe how I feel about commercial photography, because right now it's difficult to describe what's going through my head even to myself. It's more a (really strong and insanely complex) feeling than something that I can put into a cohesive sentence. Even I don't fully understand it, and right now I'm really confused about the whole thing.

So I'm hoping that I can at least start to work on confronting those issues this year because, let's face it, I'm going to need all the help I can get my hands on.

Friday: I didn't have class, so yesterday I started coming up with ideas for my first independent study project (I also did some grocery shopping and went to the Beaverbrook Art Gallery to see a show before it comes down this weekend). So far, I have four, and I'm going to have to talk with Peter about how to go about ideas two and four. Here they are as they appear in the Word document.

I'm starting with the film one because I want to make sure I do it, and I've been thinking about it since I fell in love with film photography last year, and because I want and need to learn more about film.

And if you don't know who Lois Greenfield is, you should check out her photography, which is incredibly beautiful.

Tomorrow is the tenth anniversary of 9/11/01, but I won't say much more than that, since the mainstream media is covering it to death right now. However, I will post a poem that I wrote around that time, and that hasn't seen the light of day since at least 2002.

I hope that one day the US will find the courage to move on from that time, which has influenced their foreign and domestic policy ever since. It's like the US put 9/11 on the "repeat one" setting and never took it off. It's time they did.

September 11, 2001

Flags lower in mourning,
as a vale of sadness descends on a city,
as many lives lie shattered;
death is everywhere.

As a nation pulls itself together,
and searches for the answer to death and evil,
people reach out, expressing
sadness,
anger,
fear,
and disbelief.

As Reality wraps Herself around me
I sink deeper and deeper
into the slippery tunnel of sadness;
my music and dance the only way out.

As I realize that it affected the world,
I, too, reach out
to special friends,
to anyone who shares my view,
and to America: my heart is with you.

Norway

Sometimes I find it interesting, what affects me emotionally, and what doesn't; what I pay close attention to, don't take my eyes off of for weeks, and what I just shrug my shoulders at before getting on with my life.

These days I can't stop thinking about Norway, and the attacks in Oslo and Utøya. Especially Utøya: How could anyone murder so many people--and enjoy it? And young people, too: some of the victims were around my age, others were in their teens. I always wonder about that kind of thing (Hitler/Nazis, the KKK, al-Qaeda, anyone?), and in fact I find the psychology of people who choose bad over good fascinating, but every now and then there's something that'll make those questions take centre stage: How could anyone mass-murder their fellow human beings (Homo sapiens sapiens)? Every day, I think about all those lives that were cut short and the cruelty of Anders Breivik's actions (I've been reading a lot of articles about what motivated him), and I can't help but cry--for the victims (especially the young ones), for Norway. Seeing the names and descriptions of the victims on the BBC's website as they're added daily always makes me choke up.

As a woman living on the US/Canada border, I have felt the effects of the US's response to the attacks in '01. And therefore I applaud Norway's response to the bombing and shooting: "even more democracy. Even more humanity" (Norwegian PM Jens Stoltenberg). Norway is traditionally an extremely open country and security is very low ("[this] is a society where you can meet even top politicians strolling in Oslo's streets with no security"), and from what I've read, even after the attacks, that openness will not change much. There will, of course, be an investigation into why it took police so long to respond to the shooting (Breivik had been shooting for an hour and a half by the time the authorities showed up), but I'd be surprised if Norway went the way of the US, with it's heightened security at the border (the US/Canada border used to be the longest unprotected border in the world--I still miss those days).

I also find the North American mainstream media's reaction interesting, and even disturbing: Initially, they assumed (without being able to confirm the fact) that the killer was a Muslim. But then, when they found out that he wasn't, that he was, in fact, a normal-looking blond-haired, blue-eyed, caucasian, "Christian" Norwegian, poof! There went their interest in him, and after Friday, it's very difficult to find info on what's been happening, and I had to hunt around a bit before finding info about Breivik's court appearance this past Monday. Thankfully, the BBC is still covering the aftermath of the attacks.

People of Norway: My thoughts and prayers are with you.

Offer A Message of Condolence to Norway on Care2.com (BTW, the goal was originally ten thousand signatures, which was then increased to twenty-five thousand after they surpassed the initial goal. Now the goal is thirty-five thousand.)

memories of 9/11

The tenth anniversary of 9/11 is this year. Almost nine years ago (as of August), I put together eleven pieces of music as a short (fifty-minute) ballet (for lack of better words--most of the choreography is closer to modern/contemporary/jazz dance than ballet), titled The Day we will Never Forget: September 11th, 2001. The ballet is comprised of eleven pieces of music, including an overture, and it explores the events of that day, before going into the aftermath, as people come to terms with what happened and deal with feelings of anger, sadness, fear, etc., and the military is deployed to Afghanistan.

Back then, I dreamed of making the whole thing into one CD, so that I wouldn't have to switch CDs after every piece. Yesterday, I finished putting together the playlist on iTunes, something that was in it's infancy at the time, and which I had yet to know about. Putting together a CD, recording a podcast, making a home movie look really professional are all so easy now. Here it is, for anyone who's interested:

Please Don't Go (overture)
New York, New York from On the Town (takes place on September 10, '01; depicts people going about their daily lives--I used an instrumental version, with Joshua Bell and the Philharmonia Orchestra, but this is the original with Frank Sinatra)
Ballade (the morning of 9/11; the WTC is hit, the world changes forever)
Allegretto from Beethoven's 7th Symphony (a funeral march; death, sadness)
Her Die Hand!/Oh Habit Acht! from The Gypsy Baron (anger--I used an instrumental medley of the two pieces, performed by André Rieu and the Johann Strauss Orchestra)
Lost Heroes (sadness)
Mars, the Bringer of War from The Planets (the beginning of the war in Afghanistan)
Romance for Clara (a soldier and his girlfriend/wife say goodbye)
The Last Rose (soldiers going off to war; saying goodbye to loved ones)
Humming Chorus from Madama Butterfly (I can't remember what this track was about, but I can picture the scene in my head and it's along the lines of a prayer for those who died in the attacks)
Adagio in C Minor (finale with the entire cast; hope for the future)

I put together a Word document with notes on all aspects of the production: the music and what recordings I wanted to use; characters and how many people would be involved (minimum and maximum, which I fixed yesterday because eight years after working everything out, I found out that my math was off--which doesn't surprise me, since my math skills sucked when I created the ballet and at the time I had yet to get help). At the time, I thought that I might perform it, so I designed the production so that it could be performed as cheaply as possible (fourteen-year-olds generally don't have a lot of money on their hands).

As I've been working on the playlist, I've been thinking about what happened on 9/11, and I've realized that I still bear the emotional scars from that time. After the second or third anniversary, I stopped making a big deal out of it (starting with the first anniversary, I played my violin at the time of each attack), and I moved on. Ever since then, I've felt that the US was stuck in the mindset of that day, and it frustrated me to no end. But as I've been putting everything together, and dancing to Ballade for the first time in a couple years a week or so ago, the old emotions have begun to come to the surface again.

I will never forget the aftermath: the tightened security at the US/Canada border (which used to be the world's longest unprotected border--not anymore); customs officers who were working incredibly long shifts as a result (to the point where they were snappish due to exhaustion--I remember feeling incredibly sorry for them); my parents going across the border less due to having to spend forever in the lineup... Sometimes I find myself longing for the "good old days", when crossing the border was as easy as playing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. When we didn't need a picture ID/driver's license (and later, passport) to cross the border. When Dubya had yet to add "tyranny" and "War on Terror" to his vocab ("look, Daddy: I can use big words!"). When most Americans barely gave a second thought to Islam, and people with brown skin weren't viewed as possible terrorists. Sigh...

"Homeland Security could kill us all." So true, so true. Thanks, Green Day.

And then there's that darned Patriot Act...