The Diary of Queen Mothy |
30 Down, 335 to Go written @ 12:05 PM on February 25, 2005 Sunset Paintings Completed: 30 To Go: 335 Yes, I am behind my 365 sunset paintings project by a month. But not to worry. Half my classes have been cancelled this upcoming week and then spring break is the following week! Massive excitement, everyone, massive excitement! So then I'll be caught up by the time I get back from spring break. Oh, the irony of my life. Most people on campus are planning to head to Florida or someplace warm-- I'm heading straight to my basement armed to the teeth with paint tubes and brushes impaled in my pony tail. Hence my lack of updates in, shit, I think my little meter thing said 24 days. 24 days without an entry? For shame, Sam! A helluva lot has happened in 24 days. Oh where to begin? How about with art? I had originally planned to write an entry this week, but then after I moved the mountain of papers and assignments and *gulp* art history exams, I discovered a new mountain that had to be moved: grants, scholarships, and gallery proposal deadlines. I've spent most of my week completely bullshitting university officials by paper in an effort to get money for said 365 sunsets project. More importantly, though, I'm trying to secure a venue. I talked to the gallery director at school in an effort to finagle my way into his heart to offer me a solo show in the spring 2006, when I'm scheduled to present this monstrosity for an art project, and he said "oui" but it would have to be in between shows, giving me a window of a couple days for exposure. For 365 paintings, a couple days is not worth the venture. The good news is, however, the gallery director is on some kind of board of gallery directors for venues in downtown Cincinnati and in Covington, right across the river. And he said that if I pitch a good proposal, he'll have a damn good say as to whether or not I get a show. Therefore, I'm writing gallery proposals like mad, in addition to the grants and scholarships. The first one I've written, for a place called ArtWorks, is due on the 28th. Which, according to my watch, gives me-- by the love of all things holy-- only FOUR FRICKIN' DAYS to write a smashing proposal, send in a professional resume, shoot slides of artwork, develop, label, send with a kiss, etc. Forget mail. I have to go downtown to the gallery on Monday to ensure it is considered. Problem is, I've never written a gallery proposal before, and the art marketing books that I own don't mention anything about pitching proposals. I've kind of let my intuition guide me on this one. I imagine a proposal is much like an artist's statement, only not nearly so lofty maybe. But what the hell do I know? I'm a little fish in sharky waters; I'm playing with the big kids now; (insert your own metaphor here). And unfortunately my neurotic drawing professor-- my mentor through this ordeal-- answers e-mails only when inspiration hits him. In the meantime, however, life in the world of art is swell. I'm not bored with the project, which is fantastic, and hopefully my iron drive will sustain me for eleven more months. Only eleven more months! Theatre: I got summer job numero uno. I'm working as a scenic artist, props designer, and set dresser for Summer Dinner Theatre 2005 at school. I was kind of disappointed that they didn't select me to design any of the sets, but when I thought about it, the artistic director's decision means less stress for me during the summer months, and I could use a break. But here's the silver lining, though. They hired two new designers who work professionally in the field and are nationally known, or so I'm told. I was also told that they won't be working side-by-side with me like Ron does, but they'll be sending me directions every morning, telling me the general look or style of the sets that they're going for-- and the rest is up to me. The artistic director also said that these are individuals who look for apprentices and groom them to take leading positions in professional theatre. He kind of hinted this could be my foot in the door for pro theatre in places like Dayton, Columbus, Cincinnati, and who knows? So while I was initially disappointed that I couldn't design anything for SDT, I am really looking forward to working with these designers and learning under them. It's got to be good, right? I think summer is going to rock. Academics: I was accepted into this honor society/fraternity kind of thing called Alpha Chi, for juniors and seniors above a 3.8 grade point average. My roommate was also accepted. We went to the reception last night before our parents, where the professors gave us gold pins, a schnazzy certificate, and some cords to wear at graduation. Tricia and I only wanted the cords. We both want to see how many cords we can accumulate before graduation... because we're dorks and lacking in social lives like that. Meanwhile, I won second place in the campus essay contest for this paper I wrote on Hitchcock's Vertigo for my film class last spring. $50! That's gas money, friends, and the rest of it goes toward the purchase on canvases for sunset paintings. And it's official: I am so going to London next Christmas. I was elected head of a committee (by the virtue that it was my idea and I didn't have the brains to keep my mouth shut) to do fundraising for all of us theatre majors bound and determined to get the hell out of America on December 26. I got my passport application, I'm filling out study abroad scholarships for that too, and whatever I can't cover my dad has offered to pay for, which I didn't expect. I think he saw how I was glowing about visiting the Tate Gallery. We're staying at this hotel near Buckingham Palace, seeing at least six plays on the West End, visiting castles and the Globe theatre-- and on our day off, I'm headed to Paris for my personal Mecca: the Louvre. I think my French is good enough to navigate Paris for a couple hours. Family: Dad confided in me one night at dinner that he was "seeing someone." I thought to myself, "Who didn't see that one coming from a mile away?" And so I said, "I figured." "How did you know?" he asked. "I'm intuitive like that," was all I said, foregoing an explanation that my grandmother dropped a couple hints in the preceding weeks. He told me her name is Oma... or Omah? I don't know how to spell it, I don't know what her ethnicity is, and I don't think Dad does either. It sounds eastern European to me, but Mom thinks it's Middle Eastern. Dad has no clue and hasn't asked. "East," we agreed. Dad actually didn't want me to tell Mom about Oma. But I did because I told Dad about Mom seeing Paul. And I believe in, shall we say, "leveling the playing field." Anyway, Oma has two kids, a girl of 7 and a boy of 4-ish from a previous marriage. Young kids. I think she worked as a graphic designer once, too. I haven't met Oma yet, but if she's at least fifteen to twenty years younger than Dad and artsy, we'll know for sure if he's suffering from a midlife crisis, now won't we? Dad is taking me out to dinner sometime next week to introduce me to Oma. Be sure, dear readers, you'll be the first to hear about this story, which promises to be surreal, if not interesting at the very least. Other Stuff: 2. I thought I flunked a history of graphic design test-- when I got an A! Weee! 3. I'm tired and I'm going to bed.
A Bit of History ~ And Onward! L'Amour Toujours! - August 08, 2005 |
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