Wednesday, September 27, 2006
DAY TWENTY-TWO: PROVIDENCE II
Jen crawls into bed with me around 10 am, and shows me a list she's made during her chronic insomnia. It details the infinite number of things we could do in the area during her three days off. It looks like a flow chart without the organizing arrows. It's also a perfect map of Jen's mind, ever mindful of the range of possibilities.
Scott and I talk about a new model for his photography business. He wants to incorporate a program he runs, Photo Memory, into his professional practice. Photo Memory teaches under-served high schoolers the basics of photography as a means of expression and employment. In this new model, the advanced students will assist Scott during his shoots at hotels, events, art documentation--anything. The client will know about this arrangement and will continue to expect professional quality product. I think it is an exquisite and awesome plan. He's putting his money where his mouth is by placing the students in real work situations. And he revives his interest in commercial photography, which is tough to maintain for some people (LIKE ME). He's creating something on his terms that still serves the context.
Later he shows me new drawings and a bench he built out of wood he salvaged from a building being torn down. Yay Scott. Don't stop.
I grapple with Epson and Apple support people for a few more hours. But the most productive thing I do is surf the web. You find the damnedest things. I'm thinking of becoming the doppelganger of Naomi Miller, the Jewish songstress (type in our name dot com). Maybe I can take over when she retires, like the Dread Pirate Roberts in "The Princess Bride." I feel like she is my alter ego.
After I run on Blackstone Boulevard, I call up Tyler Henry, a boy I worked with this summer in Maine. He is a senior at Brown and studies the mind-numbing Modern Culture and Media. From the website: "The uniqueness of Modern Culture and Media resides in its commitment to situate the study of media in the context of the broader examination of modern cultural and social formations." It's that great?
He lives in a house that is resplendent in its commitment to inattentive male occupation. I don't need to describe it s hard-core approach to not caring a wick about environment. Except this: 7 Lay-Z-Boys in the front living room. Most of his roommates are in an a cappella group, Brown's version of a frat.
Jen Scott and I meet up in the kitchen. Both of them had tough days. Scott's Photo Memory class was difficult and Jen had to counsel 2 women at the hospital where she is a mental health researcher. The mood lightens after we watch "The Dave Chappelle Show."
Jen crawls into bed with me around 10 am, and shows me a list she's made during her chronic insomnia. It details the infinite number of things we could do in the area during her three days off. It looks like a flow chart without the organizing arrows. It's also a perfect map of Jen's mind, ever mindful of the range of possibilities. Scott and I talk about a new model for his photography business. He wants to incorporate a program he runs, Photo Memory, into his professional practice. Photo Memory teaches under-served high schoolers the basics of photography as a means of expression and employment. In this new model, the advanced students will assist Scott during his shoots at hotels, events, art documentation--anything. The client will know about this arrangement and will continue to expect professional quality product. I think it is an exquisite and awesome plan. He's putting his money where his mouth is by placing the students in real work situations. And he revives his interest in commercial photography, which is tough to maintain for some people (LIKE ME). He's creating something on his terms that still serves the context.
Later he shows me new drawings and a bench he built out of wood he salvaged from a building being torn down. Yay Scott. Don't stop.
I grapple with Epson and Apple support people for a few more hours. But the most productive thing I do is surf the web. You find the damnedest things. I'm thinking of becoming the doppelganger of Naomi Miller, the Jewish songstress (type in our name dot com). Maybe I can take over when she retires, like the Dread Pirate Roberts in "The Princess Bride." I feel like she is my alter ego.
After I run on Blackstone Boulevard, I call up Tyler Henry, a boy I worked with this summer in Maine. He is a senior at Brown and studies the mind-numbing Modern Culture and Media. From the website: "The uniqueness of Modern Culture and Media resides in its commitment to situate the study of media in the context of the broader examination of modern cultural and social formations." It's that great?
He lives in a house that is resplendent in its commitment to inattentive male occupation. I don't need to describe it s hard-core approach to not caring a wick about environment. Except this: 7 Lay-Z-Boys in the front living room. Most of his roommates are in an a cappella group, Brown's version of a frat.
Jen Scott and I meet up in the kitchen. Both of them had tough days. Scott's Photo Memory class was difficult and Jen had to counsel 2 women at the hospital where she is a mental health researcher. The mood lightens after we watch "The Dave Chappelle Show."
