shadows and light
October 24. 2000
sleep looks mighty enticing:
My redone bedroom - it looks so nice and cozy.
Today was so many things.
This morning was the usual frustration with jewelry. I don't know why I keep taking classes in metals, because it's a medium that absolutely drives me up the wall. I'm casting a ring out of silver using lost wax casting, and I've already carved the ring out of wax three times, discarding it each time because I was dissatisfied. But unlike my previous project, this one has a good design and concept (our assignment was to make an object for the hand). If I can get my shit together well enough and on time, it should be a nice piece.
I crammed in my last bit of studying for my art history final between classes. I've come to a realization about studying: I can't do it. Well, not in the way I used to, cramming it all in right before the test and then dumping my brain all over it. I discovered last semester that this isn't the way for me to absorb information (and expect to retain it). It never worked. I either know the material intuitively or I don't. I don't do well with remembering dates and numbers and other minutia.
Getting back to my art history final...it was all writing, which I was much enthused about, and I have to say, I really think I kicked ass. I knew my shit, and most importantly, I really like this class. It's more like approaching ancient European history from an artistic point of view than anything. There are huge gaps in my knowledge of world history (I can only attribute this to the fact that my history courses in high school sucked), and so I've been asking questions during class almost incessantly. I can't tell if this annoys the professor or not, but my question about whether or not Jews were a race or religion rather flustered her, for reasons I can't imagine. I don't really care. I want to know, and all the worthwhile knowledge I've attained in my life I've had to pursue on my own, anyway.
I got out of the midterm feeling as though a huge weight was lifted from me. I got home and immediately started cleaning and rearranging my furniture, which to me is a very theraputic exercise. I moved the couches in the living room, moved around my computer periphrals so I'd have room for a lamp and the phone, and hung tapestries above my bed, which makes my bedroom look fabulous (see pic at left).
I got to the ceramics studio about 2 hours before class started to practice throwing on the wheel for a bit. The place was deserted, which is what I prefer, because then I can spread out my stuff as much as I want. I threw for a while, and finally realized that my technique wasn't as fucked up as I thought it was, I was actually getting nice, even pieces. I've also noticed I'm a lot more forgiving with myself and allow myself to make mistakes that I wouldn't have a year or two ago. Maybe the break from throwing during last year mellowed me out, because things seem to be flowing a lot better than they were a year ago. It's good to be back.
I also helped Donna, my teacher, load one of the kilns. Donna is a grad student, at most 3 or 4 years older than me, and I absolutely love her. She gets my award for being the cutest human being on the planet. She's thin and short with long, dark red hair and big glasses and crooked teeth and the most adorable kool aid grin I've ever seen. She often upspeaks, but that's cute, and rarely stands still, constantly shifting her feet, which is also cute. Plus today she was really sleep deprived, which made her even cuter.
Did I mention she's cute? Not even obnoxiously cute, or cloyingly cute, or insincerely cute, but completely and totally unaware of just how adorable she is.
Today's cool journal: Mizuonna No Atama, by Cabell. I started going through her archives this afternoon, which is a sure sign I'm obsessed with a journal. She's currently an exchange student in Japan, so you can read all about how she gets lost on the subways, her cute pink cell phone and her constant battle with learning kanji. It's a great read, with a really unique point of view.
One Year Ago:
all writings, (c) 1999-2000, BRR