(no subject)
Mar. 18th, 2009 12:26 amI mean one of these days to post a follow-up on the forgiveness post; there's a lot more to say. For one thing, i don't know how clearly it comes across that forgiveness doesn't necessarily mean letting something back in your life that hurt you. And that forgive and forget, when it comes to big things (Or ongoing pervasive small ones), is, or can be, noxious; where memory of the thing forgiven may be essential.
But, You know?
Last wet clay day is Sunday (Except for chili bowls for the final exhibition. We can throw those afterward. But they aren't classwork). Between now and then, I have nine plates I've thrown (All but one trimmed) which all need extensive and complex decoration. Parts of which I don't yet know exactly what they'll look like.
And going through a bout of viral laryngitis that pretty much took me out for a week and has now lingered another week and several days (I'm still coughing - I figure that it getting to me just after I got over a cold had some influence on how long it's lasted), has NOT helped. Okay, I went to the university anyhow after the first two truly awful days -- on the reasoning that the work I intended to do on several of those days - mixing a new batch of clay, several glazes, and a bunch of majolica and stains - involved being in a separate room with a dustmask and ventilators going as often as not.
Thus, I've been hardly reading anything online, and skimming a lot (Which means I don't actually know why Fez sucked so much, Bighairyviking and backpacker_feet; I noted the post in which Keith said it scratched his glasses as a last insult.)
And haven't been at home much. I made darn sure last night was some us-time, even though we were both dead tired, as I don't think I'll see Colin again until Saturday (When I INSIST on getting some home-time AND archery in before I run off to the university to pot).
This term has been... odd. Being thrown by the change in professors was only part of it. One of my classmates broke her arm over Reading Week and thus hasn't been in, and has less been working or able to work. Another broke up with her boyfriend of long standing, has been alternating living with her mother and her siblings, and generally fighting with frustration and depression. One has been even more absent than usual (Absent in her case doesn't necessarily mean not working; she has a studio in the city), and her hours outside of class and mine virtually never coincide, as she works nights, and so comes in mornings, not afternoons and evenings.
In short... well, we're a class of five.
It's felt like there's been less class time, less work time, and less time in general than there really has. I've felt like nothing but teapots even got done until last week, and those were finished a while ago. The group dynamic is no longer as cohesive, which means we can't feed off each other as much.
Plus, the university keeps making odd decisions.
Case in point: The Open House, where all the students show off their work for the year, is usually the Sunday after classes are done (Giving us a week to clean up and set up).
This year, that's Easter Weekend.
They decided to have it that same day anyhow, not to move it a week as we anticipated.
The good news - The Majors Ceramics class have a special extra show in the Gallery (GOSA) in University Centre that same week. (Coincidental but convenient timing - which would also ahve been true of the week after.)
The Bad News - University Centre is usually locked on Easter, and GOSA is locked every weekend.
Anyhow: Easter Sunday, if you so desire, you can stop by the Ceramics building, look at cool art, and buy chili and a bowl to eat it in. I'm "Meh" on the timing, but I always like the day.
For those curious, my final project is a series of nine plates, illustrating this particular bit of grimness:
[Unknown site tag]
My mother she did beg of me,
"Be virtuous as you may be
Your groom is stern, and oft grows cold
To maids who have been overbold."
I stood upon my wedding day
In raiment pure and flowers gay
But Woe! I stood upon the morn
In chains as sharp as nettle thorn
He took me from our wedding bower
And bound me in the highest tower
And though I vowed myself a maid
He swore 'twas I who had betrayed.
And all the night, in dream so foul,
Two wolves into the chamber prowl
Two wolves they snarl and creep and claw
With glowing eyes and hungry maw.
And there I woke at midnight hour
To find a wolf of aspect dour
But never tooth or claw I felt
She lay to warm me with her pelt.
My groom he came, my groom did rage
And locked the wolf in shrunken cage
He struck me as she howled full sore
Then cast me to the tow'r once more.
And soon I found upon the morn
The wolf still howled, but not alone
A second wolf made forlorn cry
Within the tow'r where I did lie.
The groom he came, the groom did rage,
But e'er he summoned guard or page
The wolf who peaceful by me stood
She sprang to seek his own heart's blood.
Through forest grim and mountain steep
Two wolves and one lost maiden creep
To father's hall I found my way
Though wolfen eyes bid me to stay.
My father cried "Thou art not true,
A vision false as mirror's view.
Three daughters had I, fair as day
Three daughters who lie in cold clay.
The biers were built upon their doom
Three maidens lie in final tomb
Their faces still, their hearts gone cold
Three maids who once were overbold."
From father's hall I turned away
And no voice rose to bid me stay
Through forest grim and mountain steep
Three wolfen sisters e'er shall creep.
But, You know?
Last wet clay day is Sunday (Except for chili bowls for the final exhibition. We can throw those afterward. But they aren't classwork). Between now and then, I have nine plates I've thrown (All but one trimmed) which all need extensive and complex decoration. Parts of which I don't yet know exactly what they'll look like.
And going through a bout of viral laryngitis that pretty much took me out for a week and has now lingered another week and several days (I'm still coughing - I figure that it getting to me just after I got over a cold had some influence on how long it's lasted), has NOT helped. Okay, I went to the university anyhow after the first two truly awful days -- on the reasoning that the work I intended to do on several of those days - mixing a new batch of clay, several glazes, and a bunch of majolica and stains - involved being in a separate room with a dustmask and ventilators going as often as not.
Thus, I've been hardly reading anything online, and skimming a lot (Which means I don't actually know why Fez sucked so much, Bighairyviking and backpacker_feet; I noted the post in which Keith said it scratched his glasses as a last insult.)
And haven't been at home much. I made darn sure last night was some us-time, even though we were both dead tired, as I don't think I'll see Colin again until Saturday (When I INSIST on getting some home-time AND archery in before I run off to the university to pot).
This term has been... odd. Being thrown by the change in professors was only part of it. One of my classmates broke her arm over Reading Week and thus hasn't been in, and has less been working or able to work. Another broke up with her boyfriend of long standing, has been alternating living with her mother and her siblings, and generally fighting with frustration and depression. One has been even more absent than usual (Absent in her case doesn't necessarily mean not working; she has a studio in the city), and her hours outside of class and mine virtually never coincide, as she works nights, and so comes in mornings, not afternoons and evenings.
In short... well, we're a class of five.
It's felt like there's been less class time, less work time, and less time in general than there really has. I've felt like nothing but teapots even got done until last week, and those were finished a while ago. The group dynamic is no longer as cohesive, which means we can't feed off each other as much.
Plus, the university keeps making odd decisions.
Case in point: The Open House, where all the students show off their work for the year, is usually the Sunday after classes are done (Giving us a week to clean up and set up).
This year, that's Easter Weekend.
They decided to have it that same day anyhow, not to move it a week as we anticipated.
The good news - The Majors Ceramics class have a special extra show in the Gallery (GOSA) in University Centre that same week. (Coincidental but convenient timing - which would also ahve been true of the week after.)
The Bad News - University Centre is usually locked on Easter, and GOSA is locked every weekend.
Anyhow: Easter Sunday, if you so desire, you can stop by the Ceramics building, look at cool art, and buy chili and a bowl to eat it in. I'm "Meh" on the timing, but I always like the day.
For those curious, my final project is a series of nine plates, illustrating this particular bit of grimness:
[Unknown site tag]
My mother she did beg of me,
"Be virtuous as you may be
Your groom is stern, and oft grows cold
To maids who have been overbold."
I stood upon my wedding day
In raiment pure and flowers gay
But Woe! I stood upon the morn
In chains as sharp as nettle thorn
He took me from our wedding bower
And bound me in the highest tower
And though I vowed myself a maid
He swore 'twas I who had betrayed.
And all the night, in dream so foul,
Two wolves into the chamber prowl
Two wolves they snarl and creep and claw
With glowing eyes and hungry maw.
And there I woke at midnight hour
To find a wolf of aspect dour
But never tooth or claw I felt
She lay to warm me with her pelt.
My groom he came, my groom did rage
And locked the wolf in shrunken cage
He struck me as she howled full sore
Then cast me to the tow'r once more.
And soon I found upon the morn
The wolf still howled, but not alone
A second wolf made forlorn cry
Within the tow'r where I did lie.
The groom he came, the groom did rage,
But e'er he summoned guard or page
The wolf who peaceful by me stood
She sprang to seek his own heart's blood.
Through forest grim and mountain steep
Two wolves and one lost maiden creep
To father's hall I found my way
Though wolfen eyes bid me to stay.
My father cried "Thou art not true,
A vision false as mirror's view.
Three daughters had I, fair as day
Three daughters who lie in cold clay.
The biers were built upon their doom
Three maidens lie in final tomb
Their faces still, their hearts gone cold
Three maids who once were overbold."
From father's hall I turned away
And no voice rose to bid me stay
Through forest grim and mountain steep
Three wolfen sisters e'er shall creep.