hmmm, wtf?

I don't know what to say about this. We got our portfolios back today. Do you ever feel as though everything in the world has been shaken up, turned upside down, dumped out, and then put back in the wrong order? Maybe it was an aftershock of the full moon, I don't know.

For those of you who don't know what's going on, I've spent the past 10 months fully immersed in photography studies - in the form of a "professional photography program". An interesting experience to be sure. I'm going to look at the positive side of it for the moment (a rarity for me, I know) and not comment on the amount of money it has eaten up.

Anyhooo, our final assignment was, not surprisingly, a portfolio. 20 prints, 4 prints in each of 5 categories (still trying to avoid being miss negativity - not going to comment on the problems associated with a portfolio of such configurations), marked by three professional photographers who are not in any way associated with the program. In other words, not marked by any of the professional photographers who were our instructors. A good plan to be sure. Leads to some issues though, namely that we're pretty darn used to getting good marks. I don't think they were necessarily inflated...just that we, as students, were learning what we needed to be learning and meeting the expectations of our instructors. That's a good thing.

Enter 3 professional photographers acting as adjudicators. Now comes the sticky part. What criteria do you mark on? Essentially we're finished the program; we should capable, though inexperienced. School gives you knowledge, and some degree of competence. Expertise comes from practise and experience. Obviously we can't expect to be at that point. So what's a pass, and whats a fail, and what's really good, or even exceptional? And how do you change the expectations at the end of a course without taking sufficient time to explain thats what you're doing?

Needless to say our portfolio marks were not what we expected. Again, I suspect they were fair, just marked on a different set of expectations,and we didn't know what those were. My educated guess (based on the comment that a portrait of mine given a 2.5 out of 5 was "sellable") is that anything 2.5 or more was of acceptable professional quality. By that reasoning I figure a 5 is excellent - the sort of work expected of experienced professionals. Or maybe this is just my justification for getting 71%.

Now, back to that whole mixed up world thing.

Um, yeah. We've spent 10 months together, we know who does what sort of work, how consistently, and how well. We saw the majority of the work going into everyone's portfolio. Other than everyone not expecting the top mark to be their own, we could probably come to a pretty good consensus of the contenders for the top 25% of our class. Until we started comparing portfolio marks. Never mind the fact that a third of the class got 55%. Never mind the fact that in the majority of instances if Paul said to put something in and we thought we shouldn't we turned out to be right and were marked poorly on those prints Paul told us to include. Never mind the fact that Paul told us to be consistent in the size of photos that we included and the adjudicators said we should have cropped according to the subject (which is of course what we would have done if we had thought we were "allowed"). In the end none of the marks made much sense...our most fav fellow and our least fav fellow are NOT equal in their photographic ability. Nobody (but the least fav fellow perhaps), would argue that they are. But somehow they ended up with the same mark. WTF?

And to go somewhere I really shouldn't with this; what does a top class portfolio mark of 71% mean for the program? Did I mention that they went back over the first half of the books and re-adjudicated them because they thought they might be being to harsh? Yup, funny, Paul agreed that 4 people failing (that's a third of the class btw) was a bit "harsh". Hmmmm, imagine that. Too harsh for us? Or too harsh a comment on the program? "His" program.



Comments:
Matt: Those fucks don't know what they're thinking!
Marc: Yeah, that's a total wtf. I like the idea of having professionals come in and *commenting* on your final portfolio, but marking them? I don't think so. That's like saying "You've been graded by this set of criteria all program long. Now, for your final project, you'll be graded on this other set of criteria that we're not going to tell you about." Bulllllcrap. But still, congrats on getting top marks. I know it wasn't the way you would have preferred to get them, but it's still pretty cool. (http://spaces.msn.com/members/eloosive/)

There is espresso on my shirt...

Today was a momentous occasion. Today I made a hazelnut mocha and a milkshake. At the Grind.

Now, it is true; I don't officially become a "grind girl" until July 1st, but we went for a walk and some scrabble and somehow I ended up behind th counter learning the fine art of espresso and quickly realizing that is going to be an *interesting* new experience. Besides the fact that there are about a zillion new things to learn I also have to be bubbly and friendly and interesting and funny and pleasant and outgoing and crazy just generally grind-girlish... hmmmm....

Not to mention a cash register. I have never dealt with a cash register. That's not true. I have. Kinda, it was acting more as a glorified adding machine so it doesn't really count. On the upside, this one tells me how much i have to give in change :) That's a nice touch.

I'm looking forward to Friday. Mostly. My *lovely* little bro informed me he would be there at some point to harass me. Sigh. If he was nice about it I wouldn't mind. But he's not. He's just an @** when he gets going and figures he has an audience. I suppose I have to be nice to him seeing as how if I don't he won't fix Missy-car. Mind you, I could tell him to leave. I have that power now. 'Cept that he wouldn't. I'll just have to grin and bear it unfortunately. And make sure I make his mocha perfectly.

Otherwise I'll never hear the end of it.



Comments:
Matt: Yar. What's up. check out my blog at: www.negativespace.net/gusto Yar.
EuroMonk: And it was a great milkshake. Mmmmmm. Banana and Chocolate Milano. Tara you make good milkshakes. (http://spaces.msn.com/members/monkeythunder/)

It Doesn't Matter...

Why is it that I get so caught up in trying to be perfect?

Yes, all of you who know me, laugh away...it's funny to me too.

For example: my portfolio. there's only so much you can do 4 days before you have to hand it in. I'm not going to fail no matter what work I choose to put in. Sure I may not win the $$ for having the top marks on my portfolio (ok, we Know that's not gonna happen *a note after the fact* - Apparently I was quite wrong about that), but I'm not going to fail. Why am I getting so worried about it?

It's because I want to be perfect. There's no denying it. I want the $500 "scholarship" (no...I want it on VISA's behalf) and I want to have the top marks in the class.
Is this a bad thing?



Comments:
Drewnabobber: You're ok Tara. It's ok to want to do well. (http://spaces.msn.com/members/drewnabobber/)

So I suppose you want Part 2...

Well, you see, this is me. And that's a problem. I tend to get sidetracked. A lot. And then I don't get back to the things I should get back to in a timely manner, so a week goes by, no one cares anymore about the outrigger race (cause I've talked about it Way Too Much in real life) and I'm left feeling like I should say something about it, but what's left to say?

OK, quick rundown on the rest of the race. Actually, this should be easy. Imagine being in a washing machine in a boat. Imagine the boat has an ama (that's the outriggery part) on the left side. Now imagine that the wind is generally trying to blow from the left and that's bad because it increases the likelyhood of all of us ending up in the water. So there we are in crazy water that is coming at us from three directions at once. We've lost our carrots as the teams ahead of us are no longer catchable (one reminded us that we really didn't want to huli and the other reminded us just how much endurance we lack) and we really don't like this water at all. Not to mention (again) the fact that we are definatley lacking the the endurance department. No singing now; just continual encouragement/direction from Lyse. What else to do but paddle? Not much really. We havn't a clue where we're headed and we certainly aren't gonna get to terra firma any other way. At about this point it occured to me that maybe I'm not really a water girl after all.

So yeah; we paddled. and paddled. and paddled. and after an hour and 43 minutes we were back on firm ground. Some of us a little less gracefully than others; I fell quite neatly on my tush (in the water) as I got out of the boat. What's that saying about dancers who are anything (and everything) but graceful in everyday life?

We weren't exactly thrilled with our performance. While we had no delusions about our abilities as outrigger paddlers, we don't lillydip and our timing is good. We ahd hoped to at least give the other novices a good race. we didn't feel that we had done that.

Then a curious thing happened. We started listening to what was going on around us. Lyse admitted that she wasn't goign to tell us just how hard that water ahd been. Some other team wasn't goign out becuase their steersperson wasn't comfortable withthe conditions. They shortened the afternoon course (ok, well by that time there was even more wind - so it's not directly related to our experiences). The Comox women came back and Lyse told us that she had as much didfficulty then as she did with our race. And hey, it turns out we came in second (in the novice category of course).

On Wednesday after the race we met up with the expereinced paddlers before we went out...there was much joking about us not being scared off and hmmm, if you aren't sore maybe you didn't paddle hard enough! (yeah right! If we had paddled any harder we may have been missing appendages now *wink*) and in the midst of that it came out that we weren't entirely happy with our performance. This comment was met a couple of incredulous looks and much "what?! you guys did great!" This continued despite our attempts to explain our reasoning. We gave up. What else can I say? It's easy to be critical, especially when desire's involved. It's much harder stand back, to look at the whole, and to be realistic about your involvement in something.

About that not being a water girl...I'm quickly forgetting that feeling of desperately trying to keep my weight on the ama side and still paddle on the right...While engaged in my first attemps at steering, I found myself wondering on Wednesday night how it would feel to be in control of 45 sleek feet of shiny boat while trying to ride the swells...hmmmm, maybe I better not dismiss this water thing quite yet.



Comments:
Marc: I reckon you people are all nutters. Congrats on finishing second though! (http://spaces.msn.com/members/eloosive/)

In light of recent events; a poem for your enjoyment...

If your friends are making faces
At the guy you go on dates with,
Then there's likely a good reason
And it's one you should be heedin'
'Cause despite what you may think;
It's likely he's a D**K
For the truth is plain to see
If the situation is viewed fairly
You're too close to understand
And so listen to those friends,
You'll thank them in the end.

Here's a lesson for us all:
Once a marine, always a marine and NEVER trust a guy who says "trust me".

Comments:
Cob: I'd like to take a moment to comment on something. Hiking, or rather a lack of hiking..

'Rigger Races and Revised Flies - Part 1

It's very hard to ignore somebody when they tell you you're getting good at something. Especially when they suggest you might be good enough to win. Sometimes this is a good thing. It encourages you to try new things, or go further with them than you ever thoguht you would. At other times you wonder if you've been duped. Take this weekend for example. On Wednesday we (and by "we" I mean a group of keeners from the DragonFlies d. boat team that has taken up outrigger paddling on Wednesdays) decided to race. This was due mostly to the very encouraging encouragement from a couple of our lovely experienced Comox outrigger women who are kind enough to put up with our paddling attempts on Wednesdays. "There's a novice category; it's only 10 km." Only?! Yes, only...well, we do paddle that far every time we go out. Mind you, it's NOT a race. And it's sheltered.

On Thursday at our dragon boating practice we established that we did indeed have enough paddlers to make a team and we also had an 80% chance of having a boat to paddle in down in Vic. On Friday Reeg and I drove to Vic (an interesting trip full of strange little happenings - maybe I'll get back to that later). At 715 am on Saturday morning we arrived at Gyro park. We realized that a) we didn't know if we had a boat to race in, b) we didn't know how or where to register, and c) we didn't know if the rest of our teammates had made it to Vic. At about 745am we had sorted all of the above out with the help of Lyse. YAY Lyse. We had a boat, had paid our reg fees (had a name - The Flies Revised - in honour of our Comox Valley DragonFlies dragonboat team origin), and had 6 people to put in the boat. It was a shiny new boat...so new, in fact, that the club who owned it decided that they'd rather not know how long we'd been paddling. Thank you Lyse for knowing how to steer! Thank you WestBay for trusting your new baby to Lyse and us!

At some point in time innocence must end. Our end came about 20 seconds after getting into the boat and realising that we couldn't keep the damn thing from trying to drift right into the team beside us. Did I mention that we generally launch in a very sheltered spot? We'd never had to keep the boat still on a beach before. One person at the end of a 45 ft long boat does not an effective anchor make. And one not so long legged person in seat 3 is not capable of sitting half out of the boat in such a way that she can keep the front of the boat from drifting but also be able to pop right back into her seat in when the horn goes off to start....

It wasn't a pretty start. It wasn't a fast start. No nimble speedy dragonfly immitation for us; it was more like a group of bluebottles with only half their wings trying to take off in formation. However, we did get it together and for half the race managed to keep our competition in striking range. Until we got to the crazy water. Before that point we battled the head wind with much camraderie and joie de vivre; after all, we were doing this for the experience. Sure, we all wanted to win, but, when in doubt, enjoy yourself, attempt to ride the swells and sing the theme to Hawaii Five-0 at the top of your lungs...um, ok, our lungs were pretty busy at that point, what with the paddling and the "hut-hoe"ing, and the head wind...so, that should prolly read "sing the theme song to "Hawaii Five-0" with what little breath we had left over.

So we got to the islands where we were supposed to turn in and head back to shore. Great! Tail wind coming our way (going our way?) Um, no. Think back to the angle at which you followed the shore on the way out Tara...just because we were going back to the beach did not mean we were getting a tail wind. Doh! Small miscalculation in my thougt processes there...Much to my chagrin that wind that I was hoping to be at our backs ended up being at our ama. As we watched the team in front of us huli I considered that there is much to be said for a two minute dragonboat race in flat water with 19 other paddlers helping you....