...and the award goes to...

I got the scholarship! $18, 000! My next tuition payment! It's unbelievable. I'm in shock. Mad, huh? The idea that this may just work out... it may all be coming together... it just might all be alright. Weird, this is unfamiliar ground to me.

New York, baby!

Wow! It's been a long couple of weeks and pretty stressful, with relaxing moments in between. But stressful mainly.

Thanksgiving was on 22nd November and I took advantage of the long weekend by spending five days in New York at a friend's place. It appears that Thanksgiving is just about the turkey. And thanking. But thank who/what you like for whatever you like, it doesn't seem that there is any kind of a philosophy attached to it. There is an obligation to see family. But it seems important nevertheless to have a pan-American festivity in a multi-faith country. I had tofurkey. It's underwhelming. Chewy. I don't recommend. Other things I managed to do in the Big Apple were: buy some clothes (never seem to go to nice shops here in LA, time and transport factors), buy a Canon G9 digital compact camera that could just change the way I photograph forever (ie my photographs might actually not look shit), go to umpteen Chelsea galleries and MOMA, Whitney, Guggenheim and International Center of Photography. Had nice time. Met some cool people. Ate calorie laden food. Experienced REAL cold for first time in ages. Had to borrow coats before I went from Dana and Alexis and needed to borrow scarves and hats too. The thing about New York is, it puts you on to an extent, it takes the edge off any yearnings for Blighty. Not that I really miss home that much. Friends and family and Dad's tea excluded.



Had some deadlines: showed my work in Image & Text, a presentation in After Archive, a scholarship application and more coming up next week. I did my After Archive presentation after 2 hours of sleep followed by 3 hours of broken sleep on the plane. I went to class direct from the airport. I gave a good talk, but I did not get through all my material because my presentation was hijacked by two hecklers. These two men in the class gave me such a hard time over my work I felt really dragged over hot coals. I really felt that they were bullying rather than constructively critiquing. I am not sure how I handled it, but people came up to me after class saying they liked my work and were really pleased I stood my ground. The funny thing is that the person who went before me was woefully under prepared and he only received support from the class.

On a more positive note, I have now had studio meetings with Allan Sekula, Kaucyila Brooke, Leslie Dick and another with Billy Woodberry. I've found them all really helpful in terms of advice and support, but also I really like and respect them as people. Even Allan. He's great, he likes me. And as for being initially scarred of Billy, I can't believe it, I think he's amazing. He's so knowledgeable and I think he has an incredibly accurate, insightful reading of my work. At my last meeting with him, he shook my hand with the parting shot, 'You're beautiful'.

Assorted good news: an editor from Source magazine contacted me wanting me to send him some j-pegs of my work. I have done. Not heard back from him though. I went to a panel discussion at LACMA this week, chaired by Charlotte Cotton, who I spoke to afterwards, she gave me her email address as she loves CalArts photo people and wants to hear how I'll get on. I'm trying not to think about this too much, but a scholarship that I applied to for 2007-8, that I was put on the waiting list for, has contacted me. There is a slim chance of getting money from them, like now. That would cover for my next tuition payment. Fingers crossed.

The complicated news: the A situation got out of hand, and today she moved out of our suite and into another one. When I pass her now, she ignores me and crosses the corridor/street. I don't want that. I had to go to housing and make a complaint against her though, which I feel bad about, but the situation got far too bad. Very negative. With bad things being said. It's a sad situation though, and one I hoped to avoid.

Independence in Trolley Form

I'm typing this in my large studio, not my pokey dorm room. I feel really comfortable in here so it makes a nice change. I think I am going to keep my Macbook down here. So, dear reader, I am sure you are on tenterhooks to find out if I survived Halloween. I did. Pah! They call that a party? Honey, that was a school disco... I was very relieved though, I had visions of me having to politely turn down orgies, saying, 'Well, its a nice idea, maybe next year when my husband will be here too?". It was good fun, and a great spectacle - the main thing I did all night was wander round checking out the costumes. A boy spoke to me who I hadn't spoken to before, even though he is in my After Archive class. He particularly wanted to tell me, whilst he was inebriated, that he likes it when I speak in class as I say interesting things that he agrees with and he thinks that I am clever. He slagged off other people in the class to illustrate his point further. All the time stabbing the air excitedly with a black dildo. It suddenly occurred to me he was gay.

I met with Billy Woodberry, my mentor on Tuesday, the first time I've met up with him. I was scared of him, but you know what? He's great. I was thinking, what has this documentary film maker got to do with my work? Why is he my mentor? But he walked in and started talking to me about my work. He really likes it. He remembered it all from my application portfolio and thinks the way I write about my work is really interesting. This was a total revelation. He is my tutor because he loves my work. Like, of course! I am at a point where I have moved on in my head from 'Les Girls', the dancing ladies project, because I am devising the next project, but he was strict with me, he said, finish the project, wrap it up and send it out into the world. He said he thought it would be interesting to show it at CalArts to see how students and faculty from other departments react to it. His hunch is that many people take it as the original photographs blown up. But he was telling me, the work is subtler than that, he said that my visible nose ring and my 'internal smile' - expression that is not looking out for approval but that is self-satisfied are the details that give the game away, and that they make there appearance slowly. Anyway, it was very interesting and very useful. He did not trifle himself with small matters like how I am settling in, or what exactly one does to get credit for a 3-credit Independent Study project, but that matters not. I like him.

The Crit last week wore me out, our little BFA4 boy presented (BFA4 students sometimes join MFA crit, but only one this semester) and bless him, he was out of his depth. Every time someone talked about his work he resisted their reading. It was exhausting.

The shopping trolley Dad sent me finally arrived on Friday. It is a trolley I can go to the shops with and bring anything I want home in it. It means I don't need to get plastic bags and I don't have to wait to get a lift to the 'Strip Mall' (retail park). It is the same type of thing that old ladies have although theirs are usually tartan. This is red with white flowers printed on it, it has an internal purse and external pocket. Its really roomy, its amazing. Its from Ikea.

Friday night I went to 2 exhibition openings in LA with Brianna and Calvin. The first was Kaucyila Brooke's at Michael Dawson - I loved her work and the gallery is amazing - modernist building with lots of wood panelling and a second hand bookshop in half the space, upmarket though, of course. The second was Miller Updegraff's in a funny space, hard to describe but not so upmarket, apparently a private collector opened it to show off his collection, although it is predominantly UCLA grads. He's branching out into CalArts grads now. Miller is so much fun, he reminds me very much of Joff Whitten, my friend from Psalter Lane, he is very charming and funny, they both are.

I got home at midnight and talked to Nareg for an hour with a cup of Night Time tea which knocks you out. I cleaned my teeth to go to bed when, guess what? A party in our kitchen. Achraf brought his friends home and they put on music and drank and talked loudly. Dana and her friends came home and joined in. There was no way I could have slept through that. I got my duvet and Henry (teddybear - maybe I should tell you about him sometime) and came down to here, my studio. I slept great, btw.

I'm so glad I have my studio sanctuary.

Over the weekend I needed to get off campus, so I went to Alexis's after she finished working in her studio on Saturday night. On Sunday I walked around Hollywood, taking in the spectacle of it all. Although I never took it out the car, Alexis let me take my shopping trolley. She knew that it represented my independence, and that it needed to come with me.

Halloween Nerves

Leslie Dick, the Freud tutor, is fantastic. Love her. Today she told us how her middle name is Matthews, thats 3 male names. A student a few years ago thought she had changed her surname in a gesture to re-claim her lost penis (Freud people will know what I mean). But no, its her father's surname. Last week her phone went off, ringtone = Gnarls Berkley, Crazy. And she has an Orla Kiehly bag. We started on Lacan today. He's a refreshing change from all that Freud reading. I had no idea he was such a cad, dandy and rebel.

In American English the word 'redundant' means repetitive.

I bought an outfit for Halloween. An $8 above the knee black jersey dress and fake blood. I'm going as Velma Kelly from Chicago - remember the line in it where she says she didn't know her sister and husband were dead until she was washing the blood off her hands. But basically I'm not into dressing up. Totally nervous about the whole thing, they are meant to be debauched over the top affairs up here. They are legendary. I was talking to an Irish girl yesterday who is in her second year, and I was saying how I know feel I've acclimatised, and she said she felt the same way about this time last year, then going to Halloween put her acclimatisation back a few months. She didn't go into details, she didn't want to scare me too much. The party is tomorrow night. So next time I blog I might be traumatised.

When I was staying at Alexis's in Hollywood I went to a diner for dinner and had eggs, bacon and pancakes. Once I had finished that lot (I was sitting by the counter by the way, as Alexis already had plans to go to her friend's grandma's birthday meal) I got up and picked up the menu to select an milkshake, and a girl had just walked in, and was expecting that I was going to hand her the menu. I didn't. But for about 30 seconds we stared into each other's faces. She was smaller than me, wearing a denim jacket, she was about a size 0 and looked like she needed a good meal. She had my hairstyle, and her hair was my hair's natural colour. It was Christina Ricci.

Fires in California

Just to let you know, some of the fires got quite close to campus, although in the end they blew the other way. Campus was not officially evacuated, but we were all encouraged to leave. I don't have a car so I got a ride with Dana with one of her friends. Dana has been through Katrina and she knows how to evacuate. I did not want to leave so I did not know how to pack! In the end she had to shout at me to get in the car and go. I wanted to finish my cup of tea. English people will understand that. One reason why I was dragging my heels is that N was as calm as a Hindu cow and was adamant he was staying on campus. Dana and N are my family in California and I was torn between their two very different attitudes. I also did not want to choose between who I stayed with. In the end I told Dana I did not want to leave N (or my dresses) and although he did not come with us she shouted at him enough for him to get his ass into gear, pack his stuff up and go with his friend. In that moment there was a weird role reversal of family positions. Dana became the Alpha male, sorting out every single person she knew, fixing everyone up with rides to somewhere safe. She became a hub and as we left she called campus housing and she told the who was going where. Campus housing were blown away. Everyone was calling them and freaking out, wanting to know what to do and there was Dana calling them and listing them who went where in our suite, how they got there etc. Tornados are a regular occurance in New Orleans and her and her family got out well before Katrina hit, even though they lost everything. Everthing. I can only say that whilst I am in California and Dana is in my family, no harm will come to me.

I ended up at a friend of Dana's appartment in North Hollywood, with a dozen actors. They were all hungry and went for a bite to eat at a cool place called Alcove. On the way there Dana realised that the actors were going to stick together and have fun and be actorish, so she looked at me and said, call Alexis, have her pick you up. She knew that as a non-actor that would be a bit much. So Alexis knew the Alcove and was happy to come meet me. I spent the night here and we had fun and I think we are going to the Getty this afternoon. Totally safe here in Hollywood. N just called and he ended up in North Hollywood too. He's off to MOCA. Dana is still in North Hollywood - just spoken to her - she has a hangover.

Forties and Suitemates

Cultural references in American music, films and TV don't really come with an explanation or dictionary for British audiences. I find myself suddenly 'getting' so many of those references now. Like the phrase: 'Blunts, 40s and bitches'. This is really a phrase praising a 3 lifestyle choices. Let me explain, a 'blunt' is a hollowed out cigar filled with marijuana, 40s are very large 40 liquid ounce beer bottles, and bitches, obviously are easy ladies. I suddenly got the meaning of this phrase the other day, as suite mate N was telling me about a drinking game, 'Edward Fortyhands', which involves two 40oz beer bottles being gaffer taped to your hands and not being removed until you've finished them. N likes this game. It makes him sick. N is an undergrad. The only one in the house. When he comes out with these stories, the only thing you can do is sigh, 'You're SO undergrad'. Funnily enough, he's a pretty intellectual, politically aware person. I think he feels the pressure of his peers.

Achraf is from Morrocco. He is very softly spoken. He has long hair and quite femine features, but in a way that works. He is in his second year, and so he is a familiar face on campus. This means, it is not uncommon to hear the phrase, 'You live with Achraf? He's beautiful'. Achraf thinks this is immaterial, however, he does concede his own beauty.

Ben is out at his studio the majority of the time. He is great though. Nice boy. Don't know him very well.

Those are the three males of the house.

Dana is dramatic. But she is loveable. She gives a lot of love and needs a lot of love. She gives this house a fantastic warm vibe. She is a lot fun and she is out now as I type and it does feel empty when she is not here.

A. I am not sure how to sum her up. She is the most socially awkward of the suite. Dana suffers a lot from A. A has appeared to be unhinging to a considerable degree this last week. It's not been very nice.

The way that the group dynamics have been impacted by A's behaviour has been of great interest to my former-Big Brother addicted self. As all BB addicts are aware, groups construct themselves into a family. A father figure/alpha male is deferred to for advice and asked to resolve conflicts and desputes. Its become obvious that this title goes to N. (The Undergrad). A mother figure looks after general emotional welfare, domestic cleanliness and other matters that make a place feel like a home. Achraf confirmed that honour went to me yesterday when he said, 'You, more than anyone else here, makes this place feel like home'. Dana is the joker, the person who maintains bon homie amongst the group. And BB addicts know that the joker is more often than not, the winner. The three of us are really aware that A's erratic behaviour needs to be controlled, and we are all trying to work out which of us is to act. (I think N should do it). We may have to take action as a united unit.

It is bizarre to me to be around so many people. In fact, I did not think I had it in me to deal with this type of set up. But I can, and actually I like it. I'm part of team. Who'd have thought it?

Englishness in California

I walked into the kitchen, straight from finishing painting my studio. I'd just painted the floor with that grey floor paint that gives you a headache. I had paint in my hair, on my face, all over my clothes. I've been wearing some pyjama bottoms and a cheap stripy top to paint in, for days and they smell now. I looked a mess. A girl I didn't know was hanging out with Dana and her friends in our kitchen. She asked me where I was from. She had the poshist most upper class, cut glass English accent you've ever heard. Proper blue blood. I stood there thinking, 'I'm too scruffy to speak to you, I'm too much of a pleb'. It feels weird to feel class anxiety in America. How did that travel? It was very bemusing for the Americans to understand that this girl's voice could have the effect of intimidating me.

Fashion rules are different here. Students are not aiming for sharp or smooth. They are aiming for an affected not-botheredness. On purpose ugly. This works best on thin people with tans. There is also a rather bizarre style called Hifi, which involves lots of neon fabric and old skool hip-hop shapes and accessories. This generally means my style kind of sticks out. But actually, I get people coming up to me complimenting me on my dress sense. Which is nice. Who wants to be skinny and tanned when you have style?

I was asked recently what I miss. I realised then, I just miss my friends and family. Thats all. I have loads of Yorkshire Teabags. So its just people I miss. BTW I love the canteen food here. Fresh salads and lots of fresh organic veggie bakes that sort of thing. And at the weekend, breakfast burrittos, yum!

Read Allan Sekula's 'The Body and The Archive'. It is an amazing essay on photography, portraits, collections, archives and criminal photography. Its an amazing piece of text that is so well researched and just flows. It is really beautiful. Unfortunately, his teaching has no such flow. He is one of the big reasons why I came here, but I find him a big let down. I really get the impression he is seriously unimpressed by me. I thinking I'm going to drop his Globalisation class. I have 3 heavy classes on Thursday followed by the artist's lecture at 7pm followed by the usual exhibition openings on campus Thursday nights. Its just not working. I hear he does a great History of Photography, next semester. I hope maybe without a more coherent topic he will be more engaging.

The word that people ask me to say for them most often is 'dirty'. Apparently it sounds much dirtier with a British accent.

Got a Job

I need to tell you about my violated computer. Its been fixed. I have a new screen. But it has scratches, loads around the battery area and dirty hand prints inside. It was so new it was pristine when I sent it off for repair, so it doesn't feel like mine now. It cost $830 to repair, not much less than a new computer. And I had had it for two weeks. TWO WEEKS! I can't tell you how gutted I am. But what can I do?

So, I need a job more than ever. I wanted some CAP (Community Arts Partnership) teaching work, but I could not get to the schools without a car and the class on campus clashes with one of my seminars, even though the positions were all mine otherwise. However, they offered me some work in the CAP office. I'm working for peanuts, but it should cover my weekend spends.

I had lots of fun at the Hip Hop night in Hollywood. One of the DJs gave a shout out to Mad Lib who was there. My friend Alexis's is so cool and so are her girlfriends. But none of us knew what Mad Lib looked like although we liked his music.

The Crit session last week, was good, but one woman really could not get past if women should be represented that way, if it was appropriate anymore. Really bizarre hearing that opinion. I am a feminist after all.

Weirder still is that it was my opening at Blocspace in Sheffield tonight. The Husband told me it went really well. I was a little sad not to be there. It's an odd feeling, to be away from your life, but your life to continue, almost in two places. One place where you are and one where you are not.

Partaaaa

I didn't think I could party anymore. Without Husband. He makes everything cool. But he went to see Ian Brown tonight, so just maybe I could get it together and party. I was invited to cool Brica's party. Love Brica. Desperate to go. N who I live with was definately going to give me a ride. But, the area, whilst not sketchy, is not wholesome either, and his car broke, the diver's window will not go so he could not lift me and and Calvin, another boy from the course to the party. However, he told me about a party in Val Verde to go too, that his friends would be at. He gave me half a packet of fags he's had in his car since summer and told me to put it in my dress strap, a half drunk bottle of vodka, to be held throughout the night and a bracelet that his friend Golly had left in his car for 3 months. She could perhaps identify a friend of N's by it. Despite this being dubbed as 'one of the parties of the year' N was too shattered to come along, so all this paraphenalia was to help me meet people. However, the party was raided and broken up by the police. Boooo. It hadnt even gone on that long. However, it was cool, I danced and drank vodka and cranberry. It felt very odd to party without Husband, almost not possible. I like to drink and let my hair down with him around, then I have someone to snog, too. It just feels weird to deal with a party atomosphere without him. But, just so you know, I still have it, I can party. The party was a bit rubbish though, a bit undergrad. Anyhoo, managed to get home, few vodkas later and I'm typing this. Goodnight! Bed now!

Accents

Lovely 'suite mate' Dana, is an actor, singer and lots of fun. She is trying to perfect her English accents and so often repeats what I have said when I say it. This is usually fine with me, but occaisionally it winds me up. My other suite mates have told me how much they like my accent too. But it can be problematic, I know its hard for a lot of people to understand me, and I do have to repeat myself to be understood a lot of the time. I've found myself saying 'Hi', 'Yeah' and 'Thanks' in an American accent, particularly with people I do not know, just passing by, to avoid confusion. Last night I practiced my American accent with my suite mates and I spoke for a while with it. They were all telling me to shut up and stop it, and I thought it was because it was so crumby, but it was because they did not want to hear me not using my normal English accent, although my American was thoroughly plausible! Ha ha! Today one of Dana's associates (she would not call him a friend!) started to mimic what I was saying, which, when you do not know someone is very annoying. In protest I started speaking in my American accent and said I would continue to use it if he continued to mimic me! That shut him up! Ha ha!