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February 12, 2008

Stop Finding and CREATE!

As you may or may not be aware, I recently enrolled in a graphic design certificate program at the Art Institute of Boston (at Lesley University). This is not a graduate program, but a sort of concentrated version of the undergraduate program intended for adults who have a degree in something else and want to start over. This means that my classmates are undergraduate students, and I'm fairly certain there are no other professional certificate people. These first few weeks have been fairly entertaining.

The the subject title, for example, is a direct quote from a student who even flourished his cigarette as he dramatically (and maybe with a little fake accent) completed his statement. This student had longish brown hair pulled back in an annoying little ponytail, round wire-rim glasses, and a long black trench coat - reminding me greatly of a certain Covenant College crazypants that I won't name, but you totally know who I'm talking about.

My favorite class for social observation purposes, Language of Form, is the scene for some of the best exchanges I've witnessed. Last week, as we cut out shapes for various contrasting collages (uuuuuugggghhhh), two guys to my left suddenly began discussing music:

"Yeah, I really like that band Audioslave"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, you know with Chris Cornell? He used to be in uh...that band Soundgarden."

"Yeah, I think I've heard them. They're pretty cool."

"Have you heard the new Smashing Pumpkins album?"

"It's awesome!"

"Totally. You know it's not even all the original members, but Billy Corgan's the only one that matters. I think there used to be some chick in the band."

*then something about Rage Against the Machine...being awesome*

"I know, like, a ridiculous amount about music. It's crazy."

Me: You are such an idiot.

And yesterday as my fellow classmates discussed the various dramas of their lives, the mandatory English class came up as topic and was generally reviled by everyone enrolled. My teacher, Ryan, asked if everyone was taking English and hated it, and I must have made some kind of look because he pointedly asked me about it to which I replied "I have a degree in English." I'm such a mutant in this place. Anyway, Ryan asked them what they were currently reading and the brilliant response was "I don't know, like, some poem or something."

"God, I hate reading."

Ryan: "Don't you read websites or anything?"

"I read, like, magazines, but not for the writing."

"Reading sucks."

"Totally.

I laughed. Out loud.

I'm not sure how my co-author ever made friends with any of us because these people are plumb idiots. Whenever I speak in class, I sound so elegant and refined, I can hardly believe it. I used to think I said "like" too much, but...I really don't. Like, at all comparatively.

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February 3, 2008

it's been said before but it's worth saying again....

the room is dark. i roll over in bed - rub my eyes and try to get a sense of what time it might be. i do a quick sweep of the sheets first with my left hand then with my right but i can't find the thing that i am looking for. the unfound thing - of course - is my cellular telephone. because don't all socially adjusted bi-peds sleep with their beloved cell phones? trying to recall exactly how i got around to forming this habit i am distracted by the sudden un-nerving sensation that i am being watched. am i being watched? was someone watching me - while i slept? yikes! i cast a sidelong glance and sure enough there shrouded in the corner are 3 sets of creepy doll eyes staring intently at me. and i wonder to myself if any or all of these dolls might not be equipped with nanny cams.

i cannot be sure but i decide it's probably not safe to undress in front of them. so i gather my things and stagger toward the bathroom - turn on the shower and commence brushing my teeth. and as i do i think more about the dolls and wonder if the walls that suddenly appear to be closing in on me might not be adorned with hand painted wallpaper. the pattern is certainly vivid enough...the mirror slowly glazes over with steam. shower's ready. i step in and immediately succumb to the cleaning process. well - not immediatly, because it's a rare occurence that one encounters a shower with just the perfect amount of water pressure. when it happens it's important to take a moment to let it all soak in. stepping out of the shower i feel the sun's admiring rays spill wanly across my taut and tawny frame and as i look out yon window my eyes take in the perfect cerulean blue sky scattered intermittently with wisps of nimbus clouds here and there looking like a grandfather - a vicitim of a not quite perfect shave. so this is california....

the preceding morsels of pure poetry are in the process of becoming the opening paragraphs of my newest novel about a recent trip i took to california. i am as always - open to any and all criticisms. i have some reservations that the prose may get a wee bit florid at times but hey, we're talking about a glorius weekend in california people! there's nothing quite like rolling out of bed to incandescent rays of sunshine and the faint smell of the ocean and/or saltwater taffey in the air as you pluck and summarily eat your own body weight in fresh avacodoes. i'll be honest. part 1: i didn't know avacodoes grew on trees. and neither did you so don't give me that look! part 2: i could really get used to that lifestyle. in fact...wait, i'm getting ahead of myself.

word came down just before christmas that the company would be sending me back to new mexico to do some more relief work. and as fate would have it a girl we will call janna called me on christmas eve and in the course of exchanging holiday greetings and impossibly witty banter - i mentioned the aforementioned business trip and that maybe after i had fulfilled my work obligations i could re-visit denver for another glorious fun-filled concert extravaganza and requisite brewery tour. and then janna was all you can visit denver if you want but i'm going to be in san diego. so you might want to go there instead. and i was all okay. because these are the kind of sacrifices you make for people that are one allegedly unmemorable wedding weekend introduction away from being a full-on internet friend.

so yeah, i flew into los angeles and pretty much from the moment my plane touched down it was a perfect little weekend. there was a nice little dinner in l.a. - i of course had the fish and chips because from what i hear it is california's most famous dish. and it definitely did hit the spot. but just between you and me it might be a good idea to steer clear of the ketchup. after dinner with janna and yeardley smith we drove up the coast to santa barbara (saint barbara for all the gringos) while listening to the soothing sounds of the soon to be award winning tickle me st. elmo mix series. and.....

i should probably start summarizing at this point otherwise this might go on forever. and some of us have pot pies in the oven. santa barbara is a lovely little town. some people say it's reminiscent of far off places that i've never visited. then they relentlessly mock me for not seeing enough far off places. be that as it may, santa barbara certainly is not a city that is lacking in spectacular views. and don't even get me started on the topography. or the easy on the eyes erstwhile tour guide janna barbara (good one micah). or the shopping. the local old navy is the tops! also if you are in the area and you are looking for a fine dining experience i will heartily recommend opal. not only it is obscenely romantique - the salmon curry is...i already said the tops didn't i....? well, it's one or two levels above that. ultimately we failed in our quest to participate in the ongoing film festival (sorry cate blanchette) but i do recall a rainy saturday nite movie marathon involving once and the brothers solomon. the latter clearly being better than anything they were showing at that stupid festival anyway.

and besides there will be plenty more festivals to come. because i've decided that i'm going to do it. i'm going to sell the house, move some money around, drain the engagement ring fund, sell everything that i own and move to california. true - i'll likely be completely destitute exactly 14 minutes after i arrive but i have confidence that my new business venture (more on this later?) will tide me over until i figure out a way to get into the movie soundtrack making business. because let's face it. not only was i born to be your baby (and baby i was made to be your man) i was also born to be paid obscene amounts of money to comb the archives of the universe for totally rad songs to round out movie and television soundtracks. and as such, i have come to the conclusion that if this is not in fact my life's calling i probably don't need to be here anymore.

p.s. speaking of the cinema - i slipped out to the bijou yesterday to see the diving bell and the butterfly and wow. suddenly i wish i could speack french. what an amazing little film.

Posted by young_christopher at 3:33 PM | Comments (9) | TrackBack