The Love It series is winding down. I have sent 15 11x14 photos, 8 14x18 photo collages and 8 15x20 photo collages to the printer today. Not entirely sure how they will come out as I was too poor to run a print test but hopefully at least 95% of them are printed correctly and the remaining 5% can either be scrapped or re-printed with the generous donation from someone.
The documentary may as well be complete save for less than a minute's worth of music to insert and adjust and the potential removal of a quick series of clips that were once a good idea but have since become a bit cheesy.
This exploration/critique of the media/campaign is far from over. I know I could spend many years on it but let's face it, once the show is over and the degree is in my hands, I am retiring from the art scene for an as yet undetermined amount of time. And really, who wants to spend their outside of school lives working on something that would probably just become an essay and some strongly worded letters that will never be sent?
I'm going back to the theatre. Every so often I have a prophetic dream and last year sometime I had one where I was standing outside the theatre haunting grounds of my past lamenting my choice to not pursue a career in anything theatre related. The reasoning behind this conscious decision came from the knowledge that working for/in a theatre involves long hours, uncertain schedules, and terrible pay. Armed with this knowledge I wandered off to pursue an Art History major. For a year. Now I'm set to earn even worse pay and have even less certainty with a BFA degree that may as well be a death sentence. So back to the theatre I go, despite the hours that will have me working all day and into the wee hours of the next and the inevitable strains that this will put on my relationship, not just with Keith but with my family as well as being 3 hours behind I will never be able to call them at an acceptable hour for everyone involved.
Perhaps I will pursue my old dream of being a photographer for a magazine and essentially become a hypocrite (unless I can get them to see my way of thinking and have normal sized models).
So here I stand at the brink of uncertainty. Yes, I am graduating in June. Yes, I am returning home at the end of this month. No, I will not be returning to Kelowna save for a day or two to visit my in laws. No, I do not know when I will leave home. No, I do not have a place to live. No, I will not be going to school in September. No, I do not have a job lined up anywhere between now and then. I shall jump of the nearest high place and let myself be blown wherever the strongest wind will take me. That sounds pretty agreeable to me.