I Need A Real Job

The time has come. I need a real job. Would someone please hire me? Click on the newspaper for some resume information!

In the meantime, I've been finding fun stuff online. Visit this site for your own fun - make a sign just like my You Need Art banner. http://miche.netsons.org/signs/

SOTU

The State of the Union speech made me angry. This stupid man must learn not to smirk. He could use some theatre training. The clapping - just another absurd demonstration of American ridiculousness in the "famous person" genre. It so takes away from the credibility of continuous thought.


I think that the Pres glossed over so many issues that are important to me, and other average Americans. I know I am stupid about the war in Iraq, and my heart bleeds for the military that are there, but I really really really need someone to explain to me why I should care about Iraq and democracy there. I feel very strongly that there is so much going on in this country that needs addressing. I don't understand why this money can't be spent on defending our own country from the inside. Why can't this money be spent on health care, education, more jobs. Families like ours who are sinking quickly out of the middle class. People who lost their jobs, who no longer qualify for unemployment or job training, no health insurance, no prospects for a job within their field. I am in a field that is in such critical death throes - art museums. Can I tell you how much this administration doesn't care about arts and culture? How much he doesn't care about the fabric of society being ripped apart? What is he thinking? What is going on in Washington? Do you think the Democrats understand that America is falling apart because of our attention to and funding of other countries? I think they do, and I am counting on them to rebuild this country. I apologize that I don't care about aids in Africa. I apologize that women in Iraq can't go to college. My own kids can't afford college! I apologize that I don't care about people in other countries blowing themselves up. America is falling apart. My family is falling apart. Will someone please tell me what's going to happen here in this country that is for the people right here?

Cosmic Reckoning

Had dinner with Judith and Isabelle tonight. Judith is the new Curator of Exhibitions at University of Delaware Museums, formerly at DAM. She is back and has recovered from the 2004 slash, better than ever. Her first day included a meeting at DAM and it meant cosmic reckoning and the completion of a journey for her. For the rest of us, it is a victory that she is working back in the museum field, with a better salary in a better position. For me, it could mean some future work on U of DE museums' outreach/community connection initiative.

CCAC project seems to be stalled. Too bad. I was just getting into the groove. Worst part: no hours, no paycheck.

Ten Things I Would Take With Me

I've started the list of the 10 things I would take with me. Clothing, hygiene stuff, medicine and my studio stuff don't count. This was launched from a discussion that Valerie and I had about the 10 things you would want in your bag if you had to become a bag lady. That discussion was launched from my idea about having an artist/architect competition to design a cart for homeless people; it would want to include a sleeping place, storage, maybe an awning, maybe a place for cooking, etc. Then I would seek a foundation/corporate grant for creating them. Then I would pass them out to homeless people who needed them.

Anyway. I expected to hear from Birmingham Museum of Art by now. I have had a gut feeling that they are going to defer to their in-house candidate. . . we shall see. Primarily I think it's because I don't have a Masters degree, and I'm a yankee from New England.

How do you know when you've hit rock bottom? Is there a rock bottom?

Eddie

I tried to call my friend Eddie tonight, who is dying of pancreatic cancer. There was no answer. I have a gut feeling that he is in the hopspital tonight. Sadness just keeps coming.

Rumblings

I can feel the rumblings . . . all the bad stuff is piling up . . . there's an explosion coming. Bob has been looking for Armagedon in the world around him. Little does he know that it's probably going to happen on the homefront. Among other things, my RI sister called me and screamed at me about why the hell would I move to Alabama . . . I should come home and let her help me rebuild my life . . . that my children are out of control - she almost called the police on my son . . . that my husband is an idiot. . . all a result of my mother's "report" after her holiday visit. Is is not great to have such a supportive family?! Whoa. Just wrap a plastic bag on my head right now.

Ariel's friend Sean has moved in, having had an incident with his parents. Bob is all askew about this. Dane seems to be in self-destruct mode. I have been job hunting to the point of tears. I now think BMA is going to defer to their in-house candidate, and this would be fine. CCAC project is slow and paychecks few. Finances have crashed. I am standing on the edge of the abyss, watching the molten lava bubbling up, feeling the rumblings . . .

Back to Preschool

Training day tomorrow for CCAC teachers. Only have 1.5 hours with them so it will have to be action packed. We will focus on implementing an "Art Work of the Month" in the classroom which will be the foundation for ongoing literacy activities. Kim also wants to talk to me about the newsletter idea. Anyway, I'm going to email the teachers right now, to see if anyone would like to bring in an artwork for sharing. Onward and upward!