It's a big 'ole life update.

Whee!

So. A lot has happened in the past couple of weeks. A few weeks ago, I was super gung-ho about going back to school. I was going to do another Bachelors' for Fashion Design and Photography. Now... I'm not.

And before you go all "why's she so wishy-washy?" I'll fill you in on my logic.

Last weekend, Columbia college had their annual open house. I went, because I wanted to get the scoop on their programs. The first thing I learned: I fucking love Columbia. Their facilities are amazing, and I would kill to have access to their darkrooms.

The second thing I learned: That I'm WAY more excited about the possibility of shooting and developing my photography than I ever was about fashion.
It's one thing to be fashion-conscious, and to have an interest in the way clothes are constructed, and it's another thing altogether to be thrown into a fashion program.
On the other hand, I got really excited when I could smell the photo chemicals. It was a very familiar atmosphere. And it reminded me why I do stupid shit like compulsively buy cameras, and why I spent a summer afternoon hosing 20 year old darkroom equipment off in my backyard. I really love the process of creating a photograph. I love shooting film and digital equally, but when it comes to physical prints, I prefer traditional printing methods hands-down. If you shoot digitally and print digitally, the whole process is mechanized, and I think there is a coldness to that. But if you print in a darkroom, and your hands are in the chemicals and the paper's in the chemicals and everything is stewing together, you made that thing out of love and human touch, and it becomes a very vital, living object. It becomes a part of you, and you are a part of the art.

Lastly, I've spent the last week kind of stewing over and thinking about the next steps for me. Unlike fashion, Photography can be taught effectively outside the collegiate environment. I don't *need* that degree to progress. It's possible to get enough training and build a portfolio, as well as distilling what I want out of the process, either on my own, or without dropping the $70 thousand for another BA. So I'm looking at a certificate program with the Chicago Photography Center. It's pretty close to my house, and the whole program is three thousand. It would shore up my skills in the darkroom after three or four years of not using them, give me a quick and dirty intro to editing and printing digitally, teach me the basics of Photoshop, and afford me a (somewhat more limited than academically offered) range of electives I could take to broaden my expertise.


The only thing missing from that equation is the wealth of 19th century photographic processes that I'm interested in learning. Those, unlike gelatin-silver and digital processes, I will have to learn on my own. Color photography, I might have to seek special instruction in, since it's so damn difficult and precise. (The actual developing and printing process, that is)

So... that's where I'm at. It's a lot less money, and a good bit less time to invest. And if I think getting a degree is still a good idea at the end of it, then I can always apply to an MFA program with my newly updated and condensed portfolio.

Vegetables

Every few years I experience a particularly intense urge to have plants. It mostly comes out of the desire to have a small, fuzzy animal to take care of, but not having the space or funds to support and feed said fuzzy animal at that particular time. So I usually acquire vegetable plants instead.

Soon, the Lincoln Square farmers' market will be starting up again, and I'll have my pick of any number of homegrown seedlings. The question is; what will I keep this year?

Assuming I'll have a job in the next few weeks (because that very much affects what I do with the garden, or even what state I'll be gardening in), I would like to get my usual pot or two of cayenne peppers started up. (They were stupidly allowed to wither last year, thanks to me being dumb and leaving the horticulture to my roommate) But I am thinking I might also want to pick up some heirloom tomatoes (or just tomatoes, period.)

I have been grossly malnourished over the past several months, due to the fact that, well, I have no job. And so, right now, my lack of fresh food is appalling to me. I'm not even sure what I would do with tomatoes, as I don't particularly like them, but I'm sure I can pawn them off on my roommate, or integrate them into *something.*

I would also like to try my hand at growing potatoes, something I have not tried since my family planted one or two as an experiment when I was a child.

Lastly, english peas, as I recall my childhood neighbors having a vine of them in their backyard, and the little neighbor girl and I used to shell and eat them right off the vine many years ago.

Of course, if I had my way, all this would be supplemented with yellow onions, garlic, and corn at the very least, because I adore each of these things. (and my roommate uses a literal head of garlic in every single thing she cooks. Every day. Ever.) But I really, seriously doubt I have the space for any of these things, since our backyard is A) about 12 feet square and B) we have to share it with the upstairs neighbors. Such is life in a city.

The backyard is sunny and wonderful, but not in any of the places I want to dig up and use. So I'll likely be container planting the peppers and tomatoes. I have a spot picked out for a trellis of peas, against the garage, and... god help me if I figure out what to do with these potatoes, but I just kind of want to chuck them in a rubbermaid with some dirt and see what happens.



But, yes. In a fabulously perfect world, I would be blessed with all the bounty I could handle, and I would somehow know exactly what to do with it all. As it stands, I'm using this as experiment number one: Will I actually take care of the green things in my yard? The idea of supplementing my diet (and my wallet!) with food that I've grown myself is awfully attractive, but my resources are woefully thin, and I'm not sure I'm quite ready to take the plunge. But it's now or never, I suppose, if I want to live a little more responsibly, and a little healthier as well.

The 30 day plan

Like him or hate him, Josef Stalin had at least one good idea. The five-year plan. He laid out, in five year blocks, goals designed to push Russia through the Industrial Revolution and into the 2oth century. And he did it.

And I'm going to do the same thing. On a smaller scale.

It only takes, as I'm sure you've heard, 21 days to make a habit. So... I'm going to round that up to an even month, and have a go at it. I'm going to spend the next few months doing *something* every day, until I just do it every day out of habit.

This month is knitting. Even if I only knit one row, I will knit every single day in February. I'll finish a whole lot of my unfinished projects that way.

Hopefully, after a few months, I'll have a whole slate of things that I love to do, that aren't just clicking away mindlessly at my computer.