Friday, January 30, 2009

After a week of obsessively checking Canada Post's package tracker, my portfolio has apparently arrived at the Design Academy. And I thought the suspense was bad before... but now I have to wait to hear back from them. Jesus. And there's no tracker on that. And I already emailed them (knowing they'd just receive it today).

I can't handle not knowing! The stress!

Monday, January 12, 2009

They can't be serious.


This is less disgusting (for most), but still weird and I obviously wouldn't drink it.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

making stuff

I wonder if raising a child is much like designing and building a piece of furniture. I really hope not.
You get this great idea, and decide to act it out, carefully planning all the steps you will take. Seems like a piece of cake.
You get so excited to see the finished project, having full confidence that you'll be able to pull it off juuuuust fiiiiiiine.
You fuck up. Numerous times. Then try to fix the problems so no one will notice.
You look at the finished project, wondering if that idea you acted out so long ago was a good idea, and hope that it ends up accepted in the world.

Ugh. No offense to anyone with/having kids. This is just me venting about a chair I'm trying to finish for my grad school portfolio. A chair I started about two years ago, and finally finished today.

Also with the furniture-kids comparison... names. What to fucking name the thing that accurately represents what you want it to be. Right now, I'm thinking "Stupidfuckingchair".

I have a rating scale inside my head for the difficulty of the projects I've completed based on the blood, sweat, and tears that have gone into the project.
Sweat is 1 point.
Blood is 2 points (per time injured).
Tears is 3 points (for each time I've sobbed with frustration).

The concrete frames were a 1. Nothing complex or frustrating, but dremeling and mixing concrete can work up a sweat, or at least a slight glow to the skin.
I'd say the chair is at least a 10. Welding is quite physical, same with punching holes and threading the leather ties to attach the seat and back (I'll put pictures up later. You'll understand). One point. I have a sweet scar on my arm from the hot metal scalding me back when I was making the frame. Two points. And I'll group all the times I've pricked myself with a needle stitching the original leather seat onto the frame into two points. Then today the leather tie breaks as I'm pulling on it and I hit my hand on the metal, skinning a knuckle. Two more points. Then there was the time part of the frame broke at 3am when I was SOCLOSE to being finished. Cried with frustration and threw the part across the room. Exhaustion and chair induced tantrum. Three points.

But now, I think it looks alright. At least acceptable enough to put into my portfolio along a long description on the nature-industry juxtaposition present in the materials chosen, and the human connection to both blahblalbhalbhalbhal something about it being handmade blahblahblah.
I'm glad it's done. And you can even sit on it!

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Words I don't like.


I don't know why. They just bug me.