Last Blog

This technology class has been fun. I've learned a lot. Before this class, I used paint occasionally. Now, I can use not only photoshop, but Sketchup and ComicLife and various other online publications.

I love writing but I had never thought of doing a blog. It is a good way to put my thoughts out there.

The problem is that there are so many blogs already in existence. Having an account for something is simple. It is having people read your work (or view it) that is the challenge.

Over the summer, I want to create more outlets online. I want to continue to film videos with my friend and start creating even more things. Well, I'm off to my last ACH 102 technology class.

REASONS TO STAY IN COLLEGE

The best bonding comes from the strangest situations. I worked in a hellhole for my first job. My boss sold weed from the back room, encouraged threesomes and alcohol at the Christmas party (yes, I was in high school), and called his employers "lil shits". I had some great times at that restaurant.

Two of my good friends worked at the restaurant we nicknamed TheBoy. We dealt with the mice running through the back room, emptying all the pepper into a container and then pouring it back in (which is not the most pointless thing on the hostess' work list), and cleaning up the floors with a broken broom after the vacuum died. We were miserable at TheBoy but honestly, I do get a bit nostalgic thinking about it. It was a small town and it felt very midwestern to carry around the decaf coffee for a top off. I used to laugh with my friends as we'd do impersonations of our boss's nasally voice. My friends and I would talk about how badly we wanted to get out of there.

When I went home over winter break to pick up my W2s, which of course my boss didn't send out, I went into the building I spent a year of my life at. I didn't miss it; the workers were new and middle-aged but I missed the time when I was working there with my friends. Reading the Detroit Free Press at 11:00 p.m. while I was waiting for my till to be counted was one of the things that solidified how badly I wanted to go into journalism. I wanted to escape my small town and write about the world; I wanted to get away from the minimum wage job at home.

Being back in that place, I really started to miss those times with my friends at TheBoy. I used to write cryptic poetry on the napkins about the customers. I started to miss the life I had. Then I saw my old boss-- I'm glad I'm at SBU.

V's Day

February 14th is about love but the Google image search for Valentine's Day can be misleading: v-day shouldn't just be about romance. Love is about more than flowers.

The picture is of my Grandma (Mary) and my great-aunts. They're strong women. True, my grandma married my grandpa and they did have quite the romance. Back in the day, romance was possible. No, they didn't leave graphics and exclamation marks on each other's facebook wall; they lived in the walls of their house for 50+ years, creating lives for their four children. That is more real than linking your name with someone else's on a public forum.

Today can be a bit commercial. However, it is nice to have a day about love as long as all of the different types of love are taken into consideration. Remember your family and your friends and your love. Young girls (and even cougars) can be dramatic sometimes. Just look at this picture of these beautiful women and realize that loving yourself and your family is more important than getting cheap carnations.

Family Project

Combining the present with the past is the subtle goal for most artists. For our ACH project, we're working with our personal history and transforming tattered photographs into contemporary photoshop art.

Black and white pictures evoke emotion: There's a certain sadness in old photographs. When I looked at the sturdy little legs of my Grandpa as a young boy I was shocked at how cute of a little guy he was. My grandpa's very handsome and distinguished but seeing him as an innocent toddler was strange. The sensation of seeing someone society would described as being in the "advanced age group" make me realize mortality--he was once young, just like me.

It also makes me wonder how photography will change. Black and white photos now look dated; our photos will look old-fashioned for our kids and grandchildren. How long until colored photos will be synonymous with the past?