A memory.

I let myself get away with not posting an update yesterday because, technically, my last update WAS yesterday at 1am... either way, I'm missing one.

Funny story... Today in my video class each student was required to bring in an external hard drive, onto which we had to copy 50 video clips. We were supposed to rename our drive, and I suggested that the girl next to me name hers Melora and I named mine Shirley. The video clips were taking forever to load onto the drives, so two people uploaded them and the rest of us daisy-chained to share with the rest of the class. I got the videos, and gave my drive to another girl in the class so she could upload them to hers. When she was done, she turned around, gave me back my hard drive, and said "Thanks, Shirley." Because she (understandably) thought that was my name. Maybe that story isn't as funny as I thought it was. Oh well.

I read an article earlier today about Ernest Withers , an African American photographer whose work documented the civil rights movement. It was recently discovered that he was also a paid FBI informant, putting a blemish on his reputation. The article mentioned other artists whose work belied their personal morals or activities (T.S. Eliot's anti-Semitism, Picasso's misogyny), but the point was, should we judge an artist's work based on their art alone? Should their personal lives have an impact on how we view them? Randy Kennedy, the author, seemed to think not, and I tend to agree. But it is an interesting question. I also think that Withers is different from Kennedy's other examples in that he took advantage of his position as a photographer to gain information (allegedly), and that his behavior seems to contradict the messages he supported through his art.

Art and issues around art are especially of interest to me lately. I am not sure why. I guess I'm taking basically all arts-y classes this semester.

Speaking of classes, I should mention that while the norm is to take four classes I am only in three: Fundamentals of Music, Intro to Video, and Musical Theater in America (also, cello lessons, but that's only half a credit, and it's not really a class...). I should also note that I have to write papers for zero of my classes which is why I have been adamant about blogging recently.

But enough of that. On to our word of the day...

efface
to cause to disappear by rubbing out, striking out, etc.


I admit that I have not been the best about actually using my "word of the day" in real life, but I think this one is going to be especially hard to squeeze in today.

The word "efface" makes me think of...
This one time in second grade. My teacher was Ms Ketcham. She sucked.
Anyway, one day I was waiting in line for something, I don't remember, but I had to sit at a table with the pencil boxes, and I wrote PENCILS (in pencil) on the plastic lid of the box.
After recess Ms Ketcham gave us a very serious talk about how somebody destroyed her property by writing on it or some bullshit like that. And, after making a big deal out of how wrong and bad it was, she urged whoever it was to confess. So obviously I wasn't going to confess to her; when I was in second grade (read: even now) I was truly intimidated by teachers and people in charge and couldn't stick up for myself. But when I got home that day I told my mom what happened and the next thing I know we're having a "parent-teacher conference." It was all very serious until Ms Ketcham showed my mom exactly what I had done to deface her beloved property. "This is it?" my mom asked. She took the plastic lid of the box, licked her thumb, and effaced the word PENCILS from the lid of the pencil box.

My mom is a really awesome woman and I think she deserves an entry all to herself, but that is for another time.



That is all.


CURRENTLY READING: "Life In The Way Of Art" by Randy Kennedy from Sunday's New York Times
CURRENTLY LISTENING TO: Postcards from Italy by Beirut (Gulag Orkestar)
CURRENTLY WATCHING: The Music Man (1962, dir. Morton DaCosta)