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.

"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.

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...