The final project for dear friend Peter Cox, may God rest his soul on the day he shall die, is finito. Thank that same gracious Creator. I've never been more disappointed in a course, and if the man gives me a perfunctory pass ... ! It's unimportant. This image was the product of final-stretch stress, and the thought that if the photographs just didn't have to look like anything in the known world, I might feel more relaxed. I did not feel relaxed when the computer prematurely compressed all the work I'd done on this picture, making it impossible to show the individual "layers" of editing. No good for the grade, but fine for web uploads. Yes, because of this class, it is probably true that, on some distant day, I'll be able to make an image I'm really proud of. But Prof. Cox will show up only in the anti-acceptance speech ("Mr. Mullally, who told me shut up, you're not funny - I do not share this award with you!").
We're into Dead Week, which is the (false advertising) 5 day break between the end of Winter Study and the commencement of spring courses. Lots of kids go home, off on acapella retreats, down to the city (or sideways to the other city). I'm pretty firmly planted here. I've spent the morning seeing off a friend who's bound for Kenya on the 6:30 flight, reading Flannery O'Connor ("The Nature and Aim of Fiction" is a great essay), having lunch with friends -- one has a stomach bug and is downing foul Moroccan powders to counteract the effects. Also, I began a kids' story, about Cecily, who is not much larger than a garden pea. She goes on an adventure, but her legs are so short she doesn't get but just down the round. Then a grouchy little crab apple falls on her head. It won't be any good at all unless Caroline illustrates it.
A few days back, there was a thaw. The morning after 50 degree heat melted all the snow, I walked out my front door to a bone-dry salt plain on the quad. On the branch of a newly planted tree was blowing a Christmas ornament hung by a purple ribbon; Charlie Brown might have done it out of kindness to the poor thing, and if I’d a suitable rag, I could have taken the shot with a makeshift Linus blanket wrapped around the trunk. The picture I actually took looks more like a school spirit shot for the Williams prospectus (Purple Valley!), but oh well.
In other news, I've become vegan. Originally, it was a one-week stint to cheer on a friend, but it's been really good, and I'm planning on keeping it up. I'm also spending far too much time each day poring over food blogs online. While it's a moral question as far as committed vegetarianism goes, the veganism is more for the sake of health. I just feel better sans the dairy and eggs (and the processed sugars, which I'm cutting as well). That being the case, I don't freak out about the last ingredient in Thomas' english muffins (really? skim milk, but less than either acetic acid or sucralose? did they make it non-vegan just for kicks?). I mean, paranthetical aside. I freak out, but then I squelch my conscience and I eat that darn english muffin. At least for now.
My roomie should be home soon, and I've spiffed up the place (even vacuuming, dusting, the whole shebang, like a real person in a real house) for her arrival. And while this is theoretically my last blog entry, since Winter Study is done, I think I may keep it up, on occasion. I'm getting ready to dive into Memory & Identity, Intro Fiction (?), Literatures des Guerres (in daunting French), and the Book of Job and Joban Literature. So I'll be thinking. Keep thinking, I say. Except during Dead Week. I may stop thinking for a minute or two, just cause. Til I resume...
No comments:
Post a Comment