I've been busy. You know, finals.

With that said, I have three stories that I should have detailed by now.

-Tomorrow-

Her: "Oh good, I can call you Uncle Scott then."

-Tomorrow plus one-

The Janitor: "Are you breaking into there?"

Me: "Just a little bit, yeah."

-Thursday-

Stieglitz and I have a duel to the death.

Saturday night and my mind is racing. I've been doing a little research on the Conceptual Art movement on the 1960s / 1970s and it's giving me all sorts of wonderful ideas.

Actually, first, let me go back one step.

It was a little rough and tumble there for a while, but it looks as though I'm getting into the Conceptual Strategies photography class next quarter. This is particularly good because, at first, it appeared as though I was not going to be taking any Winter photography classes at all. (See: complaint letter in earlier post.)

So, in desperation to fill the three classes I was denied access to, I registered for Social and Political Philosophy 308 (essentially a quick tour of Plato through Marx), Interactive Digital Arts 252 (a required class that details art and the internet) and Art 101 (a required rudimentary history course that I was hoping to take in my final quarter of next year, just for the sheer oddity of finishing up my college experience with the class I should have taken first).

But I received an e-mail today saying that, after further review, I could take the Conceptual Strategies class.

I'm not exactly certain what pushed me in. It could have been my letter, or perhaps my current teacher put in a good word for me. Heck, maybe I just got lucky. Regardless, I'm very happy to have been accepted.

CS a 400 level photography class though, which is my first, so I'm a touch worried that I might be jumping into the deep end of the pool. The professor put the fear of God in me a little by saying (originally) that he thought perhaps I wasn't ready for the course. And, actually, I trust his opinion more than my own. But what the Hell? I'm going to do it anyway. I only have five more quarters before I graduate, which means I only have five more chances to take photography courses. After this, I'm still hoping to take Large Format, Digital I, Digital II, Color Photography and something called 'The Fabricated Image', so I'd better not turn down any opportunity, even if I'm not perfectly qualified.

No matter. I'll simply have to work twice as hard and I have no problem with that.

Interesting.

In my dreams tonight, I was watching a disturbing film, about a fireman with an axe, who walked into a daycare center and suddenly began chopping up a young boy. The film in the dream was so upsetting to me, I woke up.

I then walked into the kitchen and drank a large glass of cold, refreshing water.

Afterwards, I went back to sleep and had a different dream, one where I was sitting in a room with four or five therapists, all of whom wanted to discuss my original dream. So then, in this second dream, we analyzed my first.

We determined that I was the fireman, the boy, myself and the therapists.

Meta-meta.

to purchase

on credit card

a grab bag

of gut daggers

is to know

my first

abandoned home

Equivalents Indeed

A Hectic Jog (Phileas Fogg)

Leaf and Stone (Mondrian)

Hello.

My name is Scott McKinnon and I would like to register a complaint, if I could please.

I am an Art major at the University of Oregon. As a Junior, I have 95 or so credits under my belt. But, even with this amount of seniority, I cannot register for many of the required classes, as they are very limited in nature. For example, this quarter I would like to take the 'Digital I' photography course. Unfortunately, only 18 students can take this in the Winter quarter, due to limited space.

Now, I cannot help but become frustrated, especially when I notice that the University is offering various 'Billiards' classes to over 140 students this quarter, as well as 'Juggling' courses to over 50 students.

I do not wish to appear overly critical, but I believe that this strongly indicates that the priorities of this University are severely out of step with the needs of society. Digital photography is a huge necessity for many businesses in the real world. Juggling is not.

Unfortunately, if this situation is not addressed, I will not be able to recommend the University to my colleagues after I graduate.

Thank you for listening to my complaint. I would very much like to work with the University to address this matter.

Yours,

Scott McKinnon

Elation and frustration, baby. I got 'em both in spades today. But please allow me to explain.

I am the first person in my family to attend college. As a result, many situations arise here that leave me feeling a bit like the Lewis and/or Clark of higher education. Sadly though, I have no Sacagawea to help guide my way. Instead, I am trekking through the vast uncharted wilderness alone, hoping to determine the best possible method in which to reach the coast, only to frequently discover that I've made an error that would have been easily avoidable, if only I had been privy to some small advice before.

I first experienced this when buying books for my creative writing class. The detailed signs in the bookstore informed me that my required texts were a book on grammar ($38, used), a book on creative writing ($45, used) and a book of essays ($61, used). So, naturally, I purchased all three.

It wasn't until months later, when the class was nearly over, that I realized something odd. During the entire quarter, we had only used the book of essays. Never once were we asked to reference either the grammar or creative writing books, which were now sitting on my shelf at home, gathering dust. When I asked the professor about this, on the last day of class, she mentioned that those were actually recommended materials, not required materials. The bookstore information had been incorrect.

Optional books? That made sense, but still... I didn't even know optional books were a possibility. If someone had been there to give me a little advice, I could have saved myself $80. (Or, in truth $65, as I sold the untouched books back for a fraction of the purchase price.)

Flash forward to the next quarter... I'm taking a 3-D design course and the syllabus itself says that we are required to purchase a long list of materials. So, the week before class begins, I run out and pick up a hot glue gun ($17), various paints and pencils ($28), assorted artistic papers ($31), etc, etc, etc.

You can see where this is going, right? Well I didn't, because I am a fool. Sure enough, those were also recommended materials. Most of the necessary goods were provided for in class. True, because I had my own hot glue gun, I could do artwork at home (and receive a better grade), but these avoidable missteps remain frustrating; little stumbles that result in little scratches. But then, today happens.

A fellow Art student of mine, who also happens to be majoring in Photography, asked me why it is that I'm taking French.

Me: "Um... Because I have to?"

Her: "Why not just get a Bachelors of Science in Photography and take math instead?"

Me: "Um... Because I can't? Even a BS has to take a foreign language, right? That's what I read in the registration guide."

Her: "Well, they must have changed it or something because I'm getting a BS and I'm taking math classes."

Of course, I immediately looked into the matter and (horribly/delightfully) it turns out that she is correct. Either the University changed their requirements (doubtful) or I misunderstood the registration book to begin with (much more likely). The mixed bag result? I now feel like a total idiot but, then again, I never have to speak another word of French either. Lose/win.

I contacted the Office of the Registrar this afternoon. As of this very moment, I am now officially an Art major (oxymoronically) getting his 'Bachelors of Science' degree in Photography. As an added bonus, because I had taken math courses all the way back in the late 1990's (when I went to community college), I don't even have to take the math classes. I've already completed them.

So, there we are. As I said before... Elation and frustration, baby. I got 'em both in spades today.

At least I can look forward to being Sacajawea for my nieces, who are slated to begin their own college explorations in about four years. Hopefully, I can help them avoid a few of these ridiculous mistakes I keep making.

I'm very behind on a major photography project for 'Creative Black & White'. I'm not lazy though, just uninspired. Nothing seems to be calling out to me.

The assignment is a good one; represent or distort the sense of time through either sandwiching negatives or long exposure photographs. Turn in five to seven good prints at 9 am on Monday morning.

It is Saturday monring and I only have two prints so far. I like them quite a bit (one is a decent homage to Hiroshi Sugimoto), but I very much need to discover major inspiration right this second. In desperation, I'm jumping into the shower and then hitting the coffee shop for a few double Americanos. Because she has not made an appearance all week, my muse will simply have to be synthesized in chemical form today.

By 8 pm this evening, I need to shoot a roll of film, develop it in the lab, make a few prints and then decide how I'm going to spend my six to ten hours in the dark room tomorrow.

There are not particularly good photos, but I don't really care. We lost a wonderful lady this morning and I will miss everything about her.

Here is an interesting short essay (or blog entry? I'm uncertain of the difference anymore) at the Huffington Post. It is about viewing artwork and the time it takes to really "understand" a painting.

I've yet to read the entire thing (as I'm late for class), so he might have already mentioned this, but I'd be curious to see if he feels the same way about art photography.

FYI: The wonderful short-film series 'Contacts' is available on Netflix now.

Registration for Winter quarter begins on Monday. For me at least, flipping through my options and trying to decide what classes to take is akin to the same feeling that a child has when walking into a gigantic toy store. I'm both excited and a bit overwhelmed. I want everything.

But putting it all together is a bit tricky. In order to get my Art degree in the next two years, I'll need to pull off some impressive organizational gymnastics, because I have to meet very specific requirements, such as taking two more 300 level drawing courses and two more 100 level "intro to the world of art" courses. But, in addition, I also need at least 40 more credit of upper division art classes. (Drawing, painting, sculpting, photography, etc...) And, of course, French is in there as well.

After a while, putting it all together becomes like trying to fit together all the rapidly falling Tetris pieces. (Need a better metaphor? Start with the gears of a watch and go from there. Now you can create your own metaphor. You're welcome. Meta-meta.)

For example, I need to take French next quarter. This is an unbending truth, so that class becomes the rock I must build my house around.

I also need to take at least one photography class. The U of O is only offering two next quarter (Digital Photography I and Conceptual Photography Strategy), so I would like to take both. The former is offered at noon to 2:50 on Mondays and Wednesdays. The latter is noon to 2:50 on Tuesdays through Thursday. Sounds good, right? But my French class is currently from noon to 1 pm Monday through Friday.

So, I'll just move my French class to (ugh!) 8 am.

Ok, that's three classes. But in order to meet my upper division requirements, I'll now need to take four classes a quarter until I graduate next year. (Or go to Summer school, which is looking more and more likely. Also, somehow, I need to get a job too, but that's another headache for another day.)

So, what else do I take? Drawing? Art History? Screen-printing? Will any of these be too large of a load, time-wise, considering I'm also taking two photo classes (that I will want to put the majority of my energies into) and an 8 am French class (ugh, again!)? Can I even afford to try and be strategic here? If I need to take these, I need to take these. I'll simply have to attend and assume that my GPA will take a hit, because I won't have the time or energy for that additional class.

Also, I should jump onto 'ratemyprofessors.com' and see which classes I should avoid.

That reminds me, which of these classes will be more expensive, book and material wise? I should look into that as well.

Money, money, money... Sadly, this is all a matter of finances. If I could afford to attend college for an additional year, I wouldn't need to do any more scheduling double-back-flips. As it stands though, I really don't have means to stay for an additional year. I don't have health insurance. I live in a rather small apartment in the bad part of town. I eat nothing. I buy nothing. I have nothing. (Albiet, saying that I live in the bad part of Eugene is something like saying that I only ride rides in the bad part of Disneyland.) So, I need to finish up here as quickly as I can, so that I can launch myself back out into the real world and Get That Job.

So, assuming my difficulty is primarily financial, I might be able to achieve some headway in that regard by visiting the financial aid office. Last year I couldn't qualify for financial aid, scholarships and grants because of my unemployment checks and severance pay, but this year should be fine. Well, after the new tax season rolls around. I should do some research, right? It will have to wait.

I have a major photography project due in three days and I need to go get more paper and film (cha-ching!) before I head fifteen miles out of town to the creepy old abandoned amusement park that I want to photograph. As well as having French homework every night and a large history paper due next week. (Tetris/Watch. Meta-meta.)

Etc, etc, etc...

I really shouldn't even be taking the time to write in my blog. These circular thoughts get me into trouble and then all my time drifts away.

But, really... How can I complain? College was a decision I made for myself. It's a self inflicted wound and if I had to do it all over again, I'd still pull the trigger. Education is a difficult tangle of information going in (slow), money going out (fast), stress (constant), happiness (constant) and really strong coffee (morning, noon and night). Hell, this is what being alive is all about.

So, yeah. Um... What was I talking about?

Did I mention that I register for classes next week?

Hot coffee and fresh strawberries for breakfast, while simultaneously studying French prepositions. Life is good.

"Mon cafe est dans le tasse a cafe."

(There are some accents in there as well, but I don't have my cheat sheet in front of me.)

A quick note about the basic philosophy and intended style of presentation for my photography:

The core concept is similar to that of montage and, specifically, Sergei Einstein's "A Dialectic Approach to Film Form". To present dissimilar elements that, when combined or placed near one another, create a new and higher form of conceptual language, through which to then convey emotion and thought.

Diptych or triptychs of similar size and framing, occasionally accompanied by a few words or short phrases, which also appear in a similar frame.

I plan to elaborate more upon this later. Mostly I just wanted to say the words aloud (or in text, if you will), as I just now realized that I've never explained this concept to anyone before.

I've been reading a bit more about The Mexican Suitcase. One of the photos in particular is quite interesting to me. Within the series I've linked to here, it is the second photograph.

Considering the meta-meta, it is perfectly reasonable that I'm most drawn to the photograph that shows the photographers themselves, long before any battlefield was to be seen. How can I not help but be envious? They both look so young and alive, Taro and Capa. It is Paris. Glasses are on the table, waiting to be replaced. The sunshine was bright enough that day to make Gerda squint when she laughs.

Gerda... Can't you just imagine taking her hand in yours, walking along with her down some random, hidden Parisian back alley-way? Can't you help but ponder what it would be like to suddenly draw her close, kiss her neck and make her flash that smile, even as she gently pulls away from you? Even more so knowing that she was killed less than a few years later, after being run over by a tank in a friendly-fire accident. When I see this photo, I just want to reach into the frame, lift her out and bring into this world, get down on one knee, propose to her straight away and then hand her an extra dry martini.

Based on no information and just a few suitcase photos, it's impossible to make anything like an accurate judgement, but seeing this picture also makes it difficult for me to believe that Capa faked his iconic 'Falling Soldier'. Something about the wrinkles near his eyes, I think. Those kind of wrinkles usually inhabit the features of someone who has either laughed too much in their life or has wept a bit too often. Either way, to me they do not look like the wrinkles of an impostor. I fully realize, of course, that this is ridiculous logic. And recent evidence seems to counter my foolproof "wrinkle-theory", so he probably did fake the photograph, but I'm not too overly concerned. Unless there are other suitcases though, we will likely never know for certain anyway, which I find to be wonderful.

For every second that arrives and passes, the world becomes a mystery, over and over. And humans are inherently metamorphic creatures. Over time, some parts of us become calcified and brittle, while other parts are worn down through humility and suffering. Who is to say, definitively, what a person is or was? We might begin our lives as innocents, only to realize ourselves later as a villain, but then repent, so as to end our time here a Saint.

Capa's later photos were amazing and accurate, so what the Hell? I'll give him one freebie.

Regardless, I really should start wearing a tie each day.

There are not many days in which I feel particularly old, but a conversation this morning pretty much sucked the wind right out of me.

A fella in my photography class was telling me about his schedule. In order to graduate on time, he will have to continue taking 16 to 19 credits per quarter. On top of this, he will also continue to work his (almost) full time job for the next year or two. And the thing is, he will be just fine. He looks like he could take on the world. He is youth personified.

I have other college friends who do exactly the same, go to both work and school full time. Often, they also have boyfriends/girlfriends as well. Often, they also make it to the gym nightly. Often, they party on the weekends, only to bounce right back.

I am currently taking 12 credits per quarter, I have no job, no girlfriend and I almost never go to the gym. I do not party on the weekends. And yet, I already feel like an old, empty bathtub at the end of my school day. In the evenings I cook, read, go to the art-house cinema, do homework, drink some red wine and then I pass out from total exhaustion.

On the positive, I've started blogging again though. And someone was telling me about a great yoga place that I'm determined to start frequenting. So, there you go.

The Meta-Meta Manifesto

I have two blogs, a Twitter account, a Facebook profile, a Flickr account and, pretty much, nothing to say. Still, as I am a common modern Narcissist, I don't see why that should stop me from writing.

When I hear something interesting, said by a stranger or by the (completely deliberate and self-evoked) voices in my head, I plug it into Twitter. Sometimes it is a simple word, like 'meat' or 'alone'. Other times, I'll be reviewing the fictional movie of my life, played back and with all the proper edits that make me into the lead hero. That script gets dropped into Twitter as well. Occasionally, I'll just say something overly clever which, in my defense, is the language of the perverse.

If I get drunk, it's livejournal. About half the time I stumble and break and mumble and weep (in both text and saline). These things happen to me on occasion. If you're really alive, then they happen to you as well. Peace be with us, for we are the tortured. Livejournal. The other half of the time, I'll fly into a manic frenzy of kinetic keystrokes, a high-pulse Kerouac-like marathon of Americano sweat and sucrose. Livejournal. Either way, I consider it an art-blog, where I can uber-dump my neurosis and victories and phrase-gymnastics, leaving them behind me, as a snake sheds it's skin. I rather love my Livejournal blog, by the way.

When I take a photo and make a photo (computer touched and saved), Blogger sometimes becomes the ultimate destination. There are words here too, but they are mostly few. If I write something for a class (meta-meta), it might land here as well. There were many more words here before. "Witty" words. But then I became shy at my silliness and tromped them all away. Originally, this was to be the template for a book I was to write, but (as it came about) I cannot write a book. So, now it's more of an album. I rather love this album, by the by.

Facebook is Facebook, the lifetime-long resume of the future. ~meh~

Oh, yes. Flickr. There are photos there too. I really need to get back in there and do something. It's like the attic of a home. Every once in a while, I crawl up there, swipe away the cobwebs, move a few things around and then, as I leave, forget about it all over again.

Three warnings:

A note about the truth; I understand my own truth, but I'm not overly concerned with trying to differentiate between my truth, your truth and the truth. There are facts and dates, but just about everything else is up in the air. I believe that the truth, for the most part, is slightly relative. (And just for the record, I often don't get the facts and the dates 100% spot-on either.) I have a horrible memory, especially with time. So, when I say "three weeks ago", it was just as likely three months ago, or three years. I'm completely fine with this, but some are not. Caveat emptor.

I can be funny sometimes, both in the "ha-ha" sort of way and the "uh-oh" sort of way. Predictively enough, I have met people who like/hate one, the other or both about me.

People often concern themselves with being serious and respectable. I've never been one of those people. Although, I have to admit, I'm a touch addicted to the respect of others. This is both a strength and a weakness. Obviously, I'm not exactly shooting for "High Art" here though (or am I?), so the odds of winning you over to the Respect Column is shrinking rapidly. I can see it in your eyes (and your ayes).

I know that I am strange. I rather like that about myself, but it is a lonely way to live and I'm growing rather tired of being alone. This is not the kind of thing a person is supposed to say out-loud, but please see the first sentence in this paragraph. I can't really help myself. Sometimes I can fake 'normal' pretty well. It's a defense mechanism. Creativity though, it can be the magic elixir. And people seldom allow themselves to be free.

This is a Jam session. This is a spontaneous dance.

I'm an Absurdist. I like Surrealism. I enjoy Abstract artwork. I respect the seedling thoughts and emotions that sprouted the Dada movement as well. I do not like Death Metal music.

Sometimes I try a little too hard. Sometimes I make it happen a bit too well.

My grammar is atrocious. I am working on this. Past-tense and present-tense get mixed up quite a bit in my text. I am not working on that at all. (Please see the 'time', 'truth' and 'relativity' comments above.)

I'm a smart guy, who also damn well knows that he will never be intelligent. And please don't say "awwww..." and tell me that I am wrong. I have years of data to back up my argument.

For example, the words I am writing to you now. Because of these words, I will never be President and I may not get some future job because a head-hunter Google'd me. Once I post this bad boy, some lucky reporter/Human Resources person in the future will certainly dredge it up and ~boom~ there goes my candidacy/job. In the world of the internet, it is prudent to have a life-long sanity/weirdness filter. I do not have, nor do I ever want to have, this filter. (I was never going to be President anyway.)

I already mentioned that I'm an Absurdist, but I think it's worth mentioning again. I can hold two conflicting thoughts in my mind and both can be true. I am making a joke when I say these things. I am dead serious when I say these things. I am hungry. I am not hungry. I have no fear, and thus, no motivation. I am afraid of the fact that I have no motivation. I am accelerating, but the rate at which I am accelerating is decreasing. Meta-meta. Capiche?

Also, I don't believe that life has an inherent meaning and I don't believe in the afterlife. After we die, I'm of the opinion that it just goes black. Before we die, I'm of the opinion that we humans are responsible for assigning and defining all morality to this blip of an existence that we find ourselves in.

Which is not to say that there isn't Something More. There is always Something More. We will find it and, predictably, it will be nothing like what we have predicted it to be. Meta-meta.

Peace, love and understanding all sound pretty damn good to me. Feeding the poor, taking care of our resources, all this is exactly what I'm shooting for. So, please don't think that, just because I say that I don't adhere to any religion, I am immoral. Richard Dawkins has said all of this better than I ever could though.

What would be the written equivalent of a confetti-burst?

I also am very optimistic about the "Human-determination-of-morality" thing I just mentioned. We are in control. We steer the ship. There is no problem that faces Humanity that we cannot solve, if we truly want to. Booya.

I have now typed creatively.

Could you have done this? Why didn't you?

How I Actually Spent My Summer Vacation

Eugene has been exquisitely beautiful for the last two weeks and, as an added bonus, life is good.

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

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