­­­Where I curse good circulation & a crappy state budget

First, let me assure you I meant to write sooner, but school, work, food, rain,* sleep and mostly procrastination hadn’t allowed it.

Today’s thing is about school and comes in three parts.

Like

If you stick with me you’ll notice how much I whine about school. Well, I guess that’s just me using reaction formation**. So I actually enjoy school. I even have fun there. Like, this semester, on my first week back we had a scavenger hunt for graphic design class. And it was pure awesomeness to see a bunch of apparently random people roaming around a store, examining products, discussing boxes and slogans while jotting down comments on clipboards. Oh how it FREAKED the store manager!

And in psych class, the instructor captured my soul first day when she mentioned her passion for books. I mean, this woman spends her free time analyzing the psychology of fiction writers! Also, very interesting and fun lectures.

Then, there is the design instructor who is also a psychoanalyst. He brings up the most amazing art discussions. Last week we debated about human nature, existence, religion, and perception and their relationship to design. Yummy brain food!

Don’t like

Of course not everything is rosy.

Beginnings of semester also mean introductions. I don’t like introductions. I’ve now taken enough psych classes to know that anxiety in this case is totally self-feeding. I know it. I really do, but I can’t help it. The moment I’m expected to say something, the blood circulates and my face becomes a mess of expanding capillaries and my ears become tiny portable burners. Then I stammer, and a low whisper of intelligible words burps from my mouth. It’s usually so light I’m asked to say it again, standing. The second time though, the mind forgets English and replaces coherence with a string of Spanish and French curses. My accent becomes heavier and I finish by sort of yelling the answer while I dump back to my seat. Le sigh.

Luckily it only happens first days.*** I didn’t even blush, not a bit, when certain art instructor told me my work totally sucked.

Outrage

But regardless of what I like or don’t like about school, the main purpose such institution exists, it’s to learn. It exists so I can become an educated and productive member of society. So yes, I am outraged of the proposed 22% [$110 million] budget cut to the Nevada System of Higher Education. Those cuts, threaten with financial exigency [BANKRUPCY!], closure of colleges and departments, wiping entire academic and athletic programs, less faculty, less classes, crowded classrooms, and tuition increases [about 48% increase for me!]

I am outraged for my sister and friends that go to UNLV, UNR, CSN and NSC and whose colleges or departments might get closed.

I am outraged the state thinks education is expendable, and that a lowly skilled labor force will pull us out from this recession.

Mostly, I worry about our future.

That’s why tomorrow, true to our mascot, the REBELS, the students of the University of Nevada Las Vegas will WALKOUT of class to protest.

I’ll tell you how it goes. Hopefully I’ll be able to take some photos.

———————

*RAIN!! As someone who lives in the desert, this is very exciting news.

**star on the forehead for using quiz vocab!

***I like school, but it makes me a head case

First Day

In about an hour I’ll officially start school and suddenly blogging became appealing. Maybe it’s because now there’s something productive I should could be doing. Something scholarly like reading textbooks, or you know, walking to the bookstore and getting them. I don’t know, but I’m here. And since I’m here I thought I would finally write up a end of the year/ new year thing.

In 2009 I…

            read 145 books

            got closer to swimming. I can now doggie paddle!

            stopped swimming lessons after I had to be rescued out of the shallow side of the pool*

            still got a metric brain. I don’t understand when you tell me the sign means 3 FEET not 3 meters

            overused the word “turpentine,” I think it sounds pretty

            passed all my classes

            read more blogs than ever before     

witnessed a friend getting married and another getting divorced

got lost on campus. Twice

watched more youtube videos than it’s good for my sanity

walked around campus only to later realize people where staring because the paint all over my face

got a new yellow parakeet

found new ways to procrastinate –it’s amazing how fun baking can be

Now comes what I want for the future –my resolutions. And because they are written they are like a contract. Or a challenge. Or maybe a bet. That way, I’m accountable and I can’t trick my brain of their non existence. So in 2010 I resolve to…

            exercise at least once a week

            read at least 120 books

            get survival on the wilds of the real world skills

            learn how to write at least basic code

            build a computer

            procrastinate less. Better time management**

            better my little French

            work on my portfolio outside of school

            participate on crits

            learn how to bake something new

I will consider this year a success if I can manage at least 7 out of those 10.

Okay I’m leaving. The clock says I still have time before class starts, but I’m paranoid and can’t stop staring every five minutes at the little slip of paper with my schedule. I’m convinced the time changed and they’re already having class without me and that when I arrive the room will be empty.

*on my defense, the pool has a declining bottom, so there’s like a shallow side and a really deep one. I thought I was on the deep end.

**that’s like totally hardcore

Cheers México!

The post I had been writing is officially getting pushed to make room for this one.

I’m happy to say that lawmakers on Mexico City –my home city, passed a bill that legalizes same sex marriage. This measure changes the definition of marriage to mean “the free uniting of two people,” and allows same sex marriages the same rights as heterosexuals. Including the adoption of children.

There are many things I think Mexico gets wrong, and needs to fix. But right now I feel proud and happy that my gay friends there are finally getting their rights recognized.

Infection

I have a problem.

It is final exam/project/things due season –which is a problem by itself. But I’m actually concerned about something that tends to sprout around this time: Procrastination. I’m INFECTED with it! Seriously, like I had another post on the works, but I haven’t gotten around finishing it. Not to mention the social stuff I’ve put off, or school stuff I still need to do! Procrastination will be the bane of my college career.

I’m sure there is a reasonable psychological explanation for it, but looking for it won’t probably be helpful right now.

What I need is a cure, a remedy, or something against procrastination!

So please help me, what’s your best technique against it? Or am I totally doomed to be forever distracted by lolcats and dancing robots? Is anyone else having this problem? What are you putting off?

One thing I’ve tried is the Write or Die program to write my essays, and it’s totally AWESOME! It already has conditioned me to write as soon as the red screen begins to flash. What a great motivation is to see your essay undo itself! Someone should invent something like it for my other work…

Okay, now I’m off to start finish some stuff.

attack of the Suckmonster

So, for Graphic Design class we had to had to pick a poem and with it create a typographical design. Sounds simple enough, right? Weeeell… that’s what I thought until my head started banging against the keyboard and the clock said it was time to turn the assignment in. Then I might have sobbed said a thing or two about how I was NEVER going to make it as a designer.

Because there’s something about the sucky days that makes them the worse ever. And they always seem like nothing is ever going to be right, and that if you keep looking at what you’ve done your eyes will fall out. And it’s all woe and you become a tiny ball of anger that bounces around snapping to people –that is, until the next sucky moment comes around, then that one becomes the worst.

Just like when you get burned. Have you noticed that the immediate pain always seems like the worst ever? It’s like your brain gets so overwhelmed by the alarms your burned hand sends that it doesn’t remember that breaking your leg on two places last year might have been a tad more painful. So if you could survive the pain of snapping your leg, you are probably going to be able to handle a minor burn.

That’s what happens to my brain. I tend to forget that the Suckmoster permanently lives with me, but that more often than not, it CAN be dealt with it.

So yeah, after a lot bit of panic and running around, I turned in the crappy project, and distracted the Suckmonster with an essay. Then became a total neurotic overachiever and found myself another poem and started from scratch. This is my second go at it:

 

It’s not perfect, but my instructor said it was such a drastic change that she would forget ever seeing the first try. Yup, it was that BAD.

So do you have any advice/stories/whatever about dealing with your Suckmoster?

Learning from the Masters

The latest on my painting class is Master Portraits.

Yup, it basically means we are coping making a reproduction of a portrait done by a famous painter in art history.

I picked Portrait of Alice Perry Grew by Lilla Cabot Perry.

See, when I was trying to decide, I was first attracted to the work of really famous artists, like Caravaggio, Da Vinci, Michelangelo, Rembrandt, Raphael, Rubens, Vermeer, Van Dyke… but then I looked at the prompt and read this:

MAKE SURE YOU CHECK THE LIBRARY FOR AVAILABILITY, SOME FEMALE ARTISTS MAY BE DIFFICULT TO FIND OR BOOKS MAY BE CHECKED OUT

And I was sort of hit with the realization that I hadn’t even CONSIDERED paintings by women! I mean, there ARE plenty of female artists through history –successful ones. Why is it so hard to find their work? Sure, there are fewer women painters because during some periods and places they weren’t allowed to paint. But it is NOT for lack of talent. Seriously, why didn’t I think of women before?

I bet there are lots of reasons why, some more direct than others. But I came up with a theory [I’m big on theories]. Could it be because before art history classes, most of the reproductions I’d seen were from the work of male artists –like the really famous artists I initially thought of?

Mmmaybe.

Whatever the reason is, I don’t like that thought process. And that’s why I reconsidered my pick. I didn’t end up working with Cabot Perry’s painting because she was a woman. I chose her because I liked her painting and because I thought I could learn something from it. I found her because I considered her.

I’m not deluded enough to think this means things are going to be better for women. Hell! We have a looong way to go. But I like to think this helps change something, even if the only thing changing is me.

I think that’s not enough.

Día de Muertos

Yesterday was el Dia de Muertos, and I got a little calavera!

When I was younger, every November I asked my mom to buy me one, and each time she would refuse because, according to her, I would never actually eat them and would end up just making a sugar mess of myself. Only, after lots of whining, puppy eyes, and promises on my cleanness and maturity, she would eventually get it. Of course, la calaverita would sooner or later end up as broken as my promises.

This year, I’m proud to report, didn’t end up making a mess, so if you don’t count the smudges of paint of my hands, I’m pretty clean. I still won’t eat it though.

I don’t think I ever wanted calaveras for the taste, but I think there’s something cool about having your name on a cute little skull. I mean, yeah, I know they are supposed to represent the dead person you are celebrating, but my little morbid self is content with getting a skull of her own.

What’s the meaning of this?

This is my midterm project for my Painting I class.

It was supposed to be a conceptual still life self portrait, so the objects had to have some kind of symbolism as well as personal meaning. For the project we were also asked to explain it all, from stylistic details to iconography, on a brief essay.

Honestly, the hardest part of the project was the ESSAY. I mean, I think I finally understand** why authors moan so much about the “where do you get your ideas” “how did you came up with X idea” kind of question. Because it IS hard to answer!

For me, the process wasn’t as clear as the outcome. What I thought I was doing is NOT exactly what I got. And the difference shows on the stuff that ended up on my essay. The meaning I told my instructor I intended was SLIGHTLY DIFFERENT and A LOT more influenced by the interpretations I was getting from the people that saw it than what I really had set out to get.

Seriously, I’m surprised by the interpretations people give me when I tell them the painting means something. Sometimes they give me an answer I expect, but sometimes they make me look again and re-evaluate what I did. And that is totally AWESOME!

It never stops to amaze me how you and me can be looking at the exact same thing and get absolutely different responses. And I see it happening not only with my painting, but with my classmates’ paintings, and on the books I read, and really, everywhere.

For all I know, you can be seeing this painting or reading this and think it’s utter crap.

And that’s okay. That makes it interesting.

**not really, some part of my brain (the one that’s patiently waiting for her Hogwarts letter) still thinks they won’t say because:

A) The information it’s protected by the Super Sekrit Society of Authors (where the YA Mansion is a branch).

B) Their genius can’t be explained to us mortal minds without our heads exploding, and they’re kind enough to keep our brain intact.

Book Cover

If you read book-related blogs, especially YA, you might have seen some discussion about book covers. This interests me not only because I love books, but because I’m also a graphic designer-on-training and those conversations brought to my attention a graphic aspect of books that I hadn’t consciously paid attention before. *coughs* Yes, some art student, aren’t I? Anyway, since then I’ve been more aware of the stuff dressing my beloved books, and I’ve found the obvious – all covers are NOT created equal. The quality gap between excellently and badly designed covers gets impressively wide.** Some covers are amazingly attractive and insanely creative at the same time as being representative of the book,*** while other covers are not so much. I mean have you seen the covers that get slapped into amazing books?****

So, when my instructor told me I had to incorporate text into the vector portrait I was making and one way to do it would be create a book cover, I was excited. I mean, this was my chance to put in practice the what-not-to-do wisdom I learnt from seeing all those hideous covers. I was going to show them how to do it RIGHT!*****

As you might imagine, it turns out it wasn’t as easy as I thought. To begin with, the only thing I had was my illustration of a creepy-pyromaniac girl,****** but no title, no story, no theme, no nothing. How do you make a book cover without a BOOK?! I’m sure that an actual graphic designer could have just done it, maybe titled the portrait and used it for the book’s name. But my brain doesn’t work that way. Practical, I mean. Instead I had to think up a whole story that matched the image, get the story’s theme and THEN name the book.

This was the result:

I wonder how many of the covers have been designed without the actual book. How many designers had just a summary or concept as guide? And of those how did the covers come out? Is really knowing the novel a requisite to a successful cover design? I think having the book is essential. But maybe, I’ve been hanging around writers’ blogs too much for my own good.

In any case, I don’t think I showed anybody anything with my cover. But I did like seeing my name up there, even after the instructor had me make it smaller because I wasn’t a bestseller author.*******

**I guess, just like the books themselves, but that’s another thing

***Because I think good covers represent the book –don’t even get me started on how maddening is when the inside and outside have nothing to do with each other

****And vice versa

*****Last week Me was so… naïve

******My sister

*******Like I was an author [or a writer] at all…

Sequel

Hai,

This is yet another attempt to blogging –because there are never enough of my procrastinating endeavors.

So yes, run! This is a warning signaling the start of the zombie apocalypse. 

 I will EAT your brains!