The Diary of Queen Mothy |
"Harry Potter Causes the Deaths of Thousands of Woodland Creatures" written @ 6:38 PM on March 07, 2003 I was looking forward to a nice peaceful evening of some homework and typing out a mundane diary entry on the progress of my day, except there was one endeavor I had been hesitant to undertake. Actually, I had hoped to sneak up on it, stroke it gently, and hope it didn't bite me. Well, it bit me. And it bit me good. What momentous task was this, dare you ask? The mission of matting artwork, of course! Folks like Casey would remember those days of turmoil good and well enough, when Sam couldn't cut a straight line with an X-acto to save her life. Things perked up a little when Ms. Hagedorn bought one of those new-fangled mat cutters that gives the window of the frame that special beveled edge, and to grant myself a bit of mercy, I bought one of the simpler models yesterday afternoon for $23. I was hesitant to spend anything more than $15, seeing as how I really cannot afford to deplete my college funds, but I figured, what the hell-- I'll be using it for the rest of my career, might as well invest on something remotely useful instead of being so freaking cheap and uptight about it. The "festivities" began around 5:30 pm, immediately after dinner. Tricia was kind enough to volunteer to help me mat a series that I completed upon entering intermediate drawing last semester, titled "Tragedy," "Drama," and "Comedy." We cut the foamcore nice and straight-- I was blatantly avoiding using my new-fangled instrument on expensive cardboard-- and then that dire moment of need came to pass. The first cut I made, I pulled the blade the wrong way and turned my nice beveled edge inside out. The second cut almost tore the board in half. By the third cut, I was on my way mastering the art of matting. By 7:30 pm, two hours after we started, we wiped from our foreheads and stood back to gaze at our fine work. Tricia muttered, "Sam, if this is the punishment I face by rooming with you next year--" "I will see to it that the Pope canonizes you," I interrupted. We went to Meijer and bought a frame for my oil painting, some clear masking tape, and a small box of those eye-hole screw things. I thought I could take it from here, and I let Tricia go back to her normal life. Then Heather showed up. "Need help, Sam?" "Um... sure." Heather goes upstairs and busts out this tool kit that would have knocked the socks off up Bob Vila-- this is all to frame my pieces, mind you-- and soon the entire dorm was filled with the pounding noises of her attaching the brackets to my frame and the smells of burnt nylon. Guys from the downstairs floor were coming up wondering what the fuck all that pounding was, and really irritated that matting and framing had taken so long, I answered with one of those sickeningly sweet smiles, "It's art! Good bye!" You'd have thought a) someone was trying to take a wrecking ball to Cumberland Hall or b) Heather was erecting a small civilization in the lounge. By 11 pm, we had finished framing one oil painting, screwing and rigging another oil painting, and matting and rigging three oversized drawings mounted on foamcore. While all this construction had been going on, the girls kept emerging from their rooms and assisting me-- just so the annoying pounding would stop. Some girls who were former art majors and/or had some measureable experience in art only stood back in a small cluster and laughed at my pains and patted me on the head. But by 11 I had finished! Ms. Hagedorn would have been proud! Not only because I bought some nice tools to do the job professionally, but that it took me just under six hours for five pieces of artwork! I tell you, I hope at least two of those goddamned things are allowed into the student art show, that's all I have to say. But after the pains of last night, I woke up to a frigid, yet relaxed last day of school before spring break. English class was interesting; we were discussing the concept of memory and how children can't really have structured memories until the age of two. I kind of pulled the rug out from underneath my professor, though, when I told him I remembered my great-grandmother's funeral from when I was six months. Ha! And then in sound class, we took a tour of the theater and explored all its spiffy toys and technology. After my classes got out, I packed up Esmeralda-- my car-- and then went to a production meeting for the show I'm stagemanaging, and then came home. No one on 275 from 71 knows how to fucking merge! *** Here's a story you'll find amusing: I was talking to my dorm-buddy Carrie, whose boyfriend frequents movie news websites. He informs me that they were doing the filming of the Hogwarts Express scenes for the third Harry Potter movie in Scotland. One day of shooting, tech crews noticed the Hogwarts Express was sparking unnaturally at the wheels. Well, the sparks turned into an all-out blaze that burned down 50 acres of Scottish wilderness. Can you imagine what the newspapers over there must have read? "Harry Potter Held Responsible for the Deaths of Thousands of Woodland Creatures." LOL Boy, I laughed. I know it's not that funny, but I laughed. Said Heather: "Jeez. It's Scotland. They don't have 50 acres to spare!"
A Bit of History ~ And Onward! L'Amour Toujours! - August 08, 2005 |
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