It's 1 in the afternoon, and SMU is being lovely right now. No screaming hoards of kids visiting the campus, no giggling gaggles of well-tailored, strappy-heeled gals. I haven't even seen one grammatical fascist indulging his or her teacher with their latest out-of-class intellectually superior experience. It's just me out here, in between classes, with a stomach full of bran muffin and hot coffee. I really love the campus when it's like this. SMU really is a gorgeous place, even if part of my tution is going towards putting waxy, unnaturally pink tulips outside the library every two weeks, after the begonias from early October had gone off-white and limp looking. Is it even the time of year for tulips? I'll have to wikipedia that. It's 60 outside, with a cool wind blowing, and it's about time. It takes a little while for me to get used to the chilly weather- Mike and I had coffee this morning before I went to class and I swear my teeth hurt everytime I inhaled after a hot sip.
Right now, it's the lull before the storm- finals, GRE exams, grad school applications. The latter of which i'm really worried about. Right now i've got it narrowed down to Boston U, Chicago U, Temple, Cornell, Northwestern, and Vassar. All up in the Northeast. I mean, that's where most of the good anthropology programs are- that and California, but I don't think i'm ready for the Pacific coast yet. I need old buildings, good museums, cold winters, and public transportation galore. I get excited everytime I think about graduate school, and finally working on something serious towards my career, but it also scares me half to death. Not the moving to another city. The working my ass off and people taking me seriously part. I'm sure i'll deal with it, i'll have to. But for the time being i'm enjoying my lazy fifteen hour schedule, spending evenings in the darkroom and coming home to reading a good book and smoking some hookah. Maybe i'll watch a Woody Allen movie this weekend when i'm at home. Manhattan was like taking a warm bath in honeyed milk. Complete poetry from start to end- something a girl could really get used to, you know? Maybe i'll turn out some more prints tomorrow morning before I leave for the airport. I've already got a couple that i'm pretty proud of, and Charlie, my teacher liked them quite a bit, which always makes me smile when i've got his blessings. I uploaded some of them online, -on Flickr, that is- although the scanner kind of ate up the quality of the images. They're silver gelatin prints from 120 negatives shot with my Holga. I do love that thing. I've gotten better at knowing what it's capabilities are, and how to develop the film just perfectly.
This was a shot from some abandoned slaughterhouses Cole took me to. Turns out there was a federal prison on the property? Creepster, I know. The whole place was pretty cool thought, seeing as how I love run-down, overgrown buildings.
This one's from the first monday fair in Canton, TX that I went to a couple weeks ago. I don't know how I get around to finding these things, but perhaps that's just part of the artist's experience. I will consider myself an artist, and I don't think that's boastful or an understatement. I think it's just how I choose to recognize myself apart from other people.Not everyone is an artist, and I imagine there are people, quite a bit of them, somewhere in the world that see something extraordinary then shrug their shoulders and continue eating or whatever it is that they’re doing.
On that note, i'd better head into class soon.
Currently listening to: "Hotcha Girls", by Ugly Casanova
2 comments:
Are there any good anthropology schools in Portland? Because it pretty much fits your 4 requirements.
1. In the 70s, they decided to put their federal money toward public transit, rather than highways...plus, it's super-bike-world. It seems like 25% of people here don't bother with car ownership.
2. The buildings here aren't like 1700s, but they're FAR older than you get in Texas. I live in a house built in 1906. The one next door was built in the 1880s. Portland's about 50 years older than Dallas. Weird, huh?
3. Winter lasts longer than a month here. Snow's an hour away, on the mountain...but it's not painfully cold like the places you mention.
4. I've not heard joyous cries celebrating the wonders of our museum, HOWEVER, there are twice-monthly gallery walks--one proper, one anti-proper.
I'm rooting for Boston University because my mama's got a masters from there. Plus Boston's on my list of places I want to visit...and I don't know where the other ones are, other than Chicago. Chicago, the city I detest, even though the closest I've ever been was East Saint Louis, shudder. (Oh, and Chicago's the Midwest, not the Northeast.) Where are the others?
--The Andi
Thank you :)
Vithalsl, Torthose, they could be friends.
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