One Who Wanders (abiona) wrote,
One Who Wanders

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A shortish-entry for the moment; I've promised to go out with some friends in a little bit. ^_^ (Whoo, that made it sound like I actually possess some sort of vague semblance of a social life.) Also, I think more folks have found my journal here in the past few days without my introduction than ever before. I have to wonder what kind of impression this journal of mine makes on my behalf. ^_^; The latest one wasn't pleasant, I'm sure ... sorry, again.

It's been a vaguely interesting day today, and it probably would have been more so had I been awake enough to notice. ^_^; At least I was fairly coherent ... that's a step in the right direction, I hope. Or at least a step towards finding out how to learn with my eyes shut.

I finished everything that needed to be done last night, and finally crawled in bed at three a.m.. I was rather glad to be done with it all, for the essay I cared less about (and wrote something about the mystery of Pepsi in), the "one hour still life" took me somewhere near forty minutes instead, and the "binary amusement" drawing took far longer than initially expected, although the goldfish I involved via inside joke looked cute (and shocked) enough.

In other news, I finally remembered to do many things that I had zoned before, and in addition zoned on many things that I was thinking of last night (such as cashing that desperately needed check!). For an example of the former situation, I finally remembered to follow up on retrieving the last of the "important" papers from a certain one of my instructors for last semester ... not sure whether that was a good or a bad thing. I can't remember his grading system precisely, but I suspect that I got A's. For the final, in which I sat around witching about the Honors System here at school and how it related to being goaded by the spirit hierarchy, he wrote all over "SEE ME," "see me," and this weird zig-zaggy line that he translated once but the meaning to me has since been lost. I may post the contents of that response and an essay I wrote before that soon, for it is an important subject to me ...

Drawing Orientation was difficult for me today; I find I have to fight my urge to rip out what's "bad," or imperfect. I did begin to show progress in the techniques and emotion that my teacher wanted by the end of the class, though, so all in all I'm pretty pleased. I never thought that I wouldn't mind doing still lifes so damn often ... back in my high school art class, I would have rather died. But now it's not so bad, and I prefer it infinitely more to painting.

He also made the comment somewhere during the lesson that instead of starting with the head or the hands, as I always do, I should start instead with the feet - after all, that's where our weight goes, what we arrange first when imitating someone, what we balance upon - all the better to build a base, so to speak, with. I thought it was an interesting thing to say ... and I recalled my theatre days and the related exercises ... I can't remember if I ever placed my feet first, but I know that I always became aware of my hands and upper body before I thought of my feet, as though I've always worked from the top down. (Drawing on my own, or drawing figures, I usually begin with the head as well.) Ah well. I feel like I'm actually learning in that class somehow, and I'm not afraid of the class as I am with some others. It's the only one that I really look forward to.

Speaking of, I finally figured out a use for all that excess wire that I had on my hands from the Book of Kells project (I selected a line from the Book of Kells and emphasized it in space with wire.). We're supposed to make books next (hah, I've wanted to do that for awhile), and I think it would look most intriguing if I somehow managed to make the covers for the book out of the galvanized and copper wire. ::shrugs::

Hmm ... running out of time ... what else did I want to say?

Oh yes. Today, I did one of the dumbest things I've done in recent memory while in my International Literatures and Cultures class. We were discussing a piece by Wole Soyinka ... the teacher asked me if I knew what this one specific line meant, and what came out of my mouth was the answer "No, I don't know." I sat there and wondered at that, for not only did I know, but it didn't seem as complicated a conclusion to get to as he was making it appear. Someone else chimed in and after some verbal thinking got to where I had already been; I spent the few remaining minutes of the class rather miffed with myself. I knew quite well what was going on. Why the heck did I say otherwise? Urk.

(So this wasn't so shortish after all ...)

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