Paperist Interviewiary Inketty Scotchal Museumine Theatricality

Monday I went to work. Worked. Prepared for an interview. Didn't finish my paintings for color class. Wished I had, but they're not technically due till next Tuesday.

Tuesday morning at nine I had an evaluation on the draft of my final paper for my "today's working artist" class. My prof had questioned whether I could fit all of the history of poster art into five double-spaced pages, but he liked the paper and conceded that the only changes needed were of a grammatical nature. At ten I had an interview with the Marketing/Communications department at De Anza College. They put me at ease for the most part and most of the review went smoothly, except it felt pressed for time and the discussions about politics were a bit awkward. But then, political discussions usually are; thus the career shift into something I actually love doing! Marisa, the Director of Marketing, also graciously introduced me to a gentleman who needs graphic design work done for a CD cover, but I doubt he'll actually contact me about it. Note to self: get some business cards, pronto. Worked on my paintings for the rest of the afternoon and then in color class studio. Still wasn't done at 5:30 for class discussion; the legato piece was done but the staccato and crescendo were both still partially painted.

Wednesday I worked. More mediation prep. The printer wasn't working by the end of the day. Needed more ink, we didn't have any. Seems like it's always the photo cyan that goes first. I will say this. The HP Photosmart 3200 printer is worlds below the Canon Pixma iP6600D. There is no comparison, even as a backup printer. I just couldn't publish my work on the HP, period. Went home late from work because of the printing problems, having not even finished.

Yesterday I had no classes. By a freak coincidence, both classes happened to be out. I spent the morning remedying the printing problems at work, and then spent the afternoon in Mountain View. I was on my way to the Community School of Music and Arts, but stopped at BevMo to see if they have my illusive favorite scotch whiskey. Why? Because in January when I needed scotch I couldn't find any Sheep Dip. Turns out they have it at BevMo, regularly stocked. So I know where to find it next time. Google maps ran me into a dead end about two blocks from where I should have been, and I had a helluva time trying to find the right road to the CSMA. I finally got there, and I folded my hands behind my back as I perused their small museum, then asked for help from the front desk. One of their resident visual artists, Kyle, gave me a tour and explained the organization's functions and purpose. An amiable sort of chap, he led me around their small but impressive facility and showed me their art studios, classrooms and private lessons rooms, and concert hall. I learned a lot about their mission and should have more than enough for the "today's working artist" group project I need it for. It should also double nicely as an extra-credit museum paper for my color class.

Went home, studied a bit, cleaned a bit, looked at the wrong clock the whole time. I say the wrong clock because I only know in hindsight that it's the only clock in the house that hasn't yet been "sprung" forward an hour. As a result, I was 10 minutes late to the community theater's delightful, sold-out production of My Fair Lady, in which my old buddy Brett Carlson plays several minor characters. Since I was late, I had to watch the first half of the play standing, but it was still worth it. I assume the production was sold out because it is brilliantly performed, but also because it is the inaugural production to be shown in Foothill College's absolutely beautiful new Lohman Theater building. Brett and I hung out after, past midnight, chatting about girls and career past midnight over Denny's burgers.