So, Im my long long hiatus, I finished my BFA design thesis. It was well received and I had fun doing it. It was stressful, but in the end I loved the class. It made me realize that I need to go to grad school for sure and get a MFA or MA, if not to go for some kind of PHd eventually as well. But I had no free time or real life. Now in this semester, I have soooo much less work to do that its really nice. All I am taking are academic classes, no studio. So these are my classes:
Oikos (ecology, economics, intellectual and cultural history wrapped up into one big ball of holistic studies goodness),
Excavating popular culture (study of the development of the consumer society and its attendant powers of spectacle),
Aspects of Critical Theory (midcentury formalism up to post-structural, contemporary art theory),
Classical Notions (history of era's of "classical" civilization),
Body Art (contemporary art about, well, the human body, fun side note, the word masturbatory or scatological is used at least once a class in the teachers lecture)
and Fiction Writing (self-explanitory).
So far this semester has been really good. Mostly because of the free time that I now have, even with six, yes six, classes. That is how intense studio classes were, they consume all free time you have. So now, even with six classes, I feel liberated. Anyway, I really and enjoying all of my classes. I have felt really inspired to write and read about topics that are interesting to me. I've been slacking on the preparing to get a job field, but, its still early yet. No need to panic.
I really like all of my classes. Each one has been really inspiring in some way or another. I really should just become a professional academic at some point in my life and spend all day writing and reading. Its been a good time for friendships too lately. I've been a lot more social, which is good for me.
Romance, or any semblance thereof of course is non-existent, you know, outside my head as usual. I have come to resent the way the computer toys with you and offers you the semblance of chances and choices. I should write something about how the internet promises connections but in the end only makes us feel more alone in the world. In a way its a lot like the spectacle of choice at the supermarket. You are offered a panoply of goods, but the actual range of choices is highly constrained, orchestrated, and so superficially differentiated as to be meaningless. There may be twenty kinds of toothpaste, but the active ingredient is all the same and they are all produced in the same three centralized factories. The more I take in and stitch things together the sadder the world gets. The unfortunate side of being not-so-busy is having ample time for introspective contemplation and needless analyzation. Boredom is the progenitor of loneliness. If its sounds dramatic, its only because I've worked it up to such a state by festering in my own juice. If only I could be more focused in developing myself some ample and worthwhile distractions. Maybe a routine discipline would work well, like exercise or something.
The weather has been so beautiful lately. Another small joy of San Francisco, a place where a winter-born child can have a summery birthday month. I should really get back to bike riding and going to Marin. Maybe getting out of the city would soothe my rattled nerves. Also, I may just move to Hayes valley after all. (That's been a goal of mine, for like, the past five months.) Moving is a hassle, but I think it would be good for me. Anyway, to much blather. Until next time.