Thank you for the a2a! I have a habit of making mental errors; some funny, some not. This one just happens to be funny. We had "open critiques" in art school. The idea was A- to point out how we could do it better, and B- to toughen us up for the advertising world. It's brutal, cruel, and cutthroat, and get ready for your stupid clients to ruin your tasteful design and fuck it all kinds of up to put a picture of their ugly-ass crotch dropping on there, or a huge starburst that says "SALE SALE SALE!". You had to learn not to care, and do your fulfilling artwork on the side. It's just a job; nothing personal. We were in the middle of a critique, and it was turning ugly. The only time our professor would jump in was if it turned personal. It had. He laid back and let us fight it out, until someone told the girl we were critiquing that "with your taste from growing up in a trailer park, looks like you'll be working for the Auto Trader" (a shitty, newsprint magazine that people sell used cars in- the worst of the worst design jobs). Before our professor could comment, I blurted out "For fuck's sake, Mom." I was about to say "tell them to break it the fuck up!" until the laughter started. Then I realized I'd called my professor, who had an MFA and spent 20 years in advertising at Saatchi and Saatchi, "Mom". He responded with such amazing, quick wit; "Ms. Hood, I admire your devotion to your mother; just remember she stays home while you come to class." I caught hell for it that entire semester. Luckily, we (almost) all had pretty tough skins, so it was amusing, even to our somewhat staid professor. He wrote on my end of semester assessment "Respectfully, Not Your Mom." I still keep that assessment to remind me to wear life like a loose garment. We all say stupid shit sometimes; just laugh at yourself and enjoy the silly moment. How long did the semester last at art school? - About 18 months - About 12 months - About 3 to 4 months. - not enough information
About 3 to 4 months.

(Question)
Oh dear. Another tale of woe from me When I met my ex, I was in foster care. I was a very confused 17 year old, and she took an interest in me, and we would talk about all my problems with my own family, and everything that was going wrong with me. I even 'came out' to her at one point. We spent a lot of time together and gradually, I thought I might not be gay after all, as I had feelings of love for her. Eventually, we started dating and I tried to suppress my gay feelings. Eventually, I proposed. We were engaged for just over a year and I got married at the age of 19. I have to admit, when the wedding plans got firmed up and much closer to the date, I started to feel that I was in fact still gay but so much money had already been spent, and plans made that I was too afraid to pull out. Don't get me wrong, I still love my ex wife a heck of a lot, but as my very best friend. I hate to use the phrase, but with everything that has gone on with me the last few years, she has been 'my rock'. We separated after about 8 years, when our daughter was 7 years old, and I told her why. I just couldn't go on living the lie. I hate myself for doing it to her. Selfishly, I wouldn't change things though, as I have my daughter and I love her, and I love being a parent. We had 'Unexpected Song' played as she walked down the aisle at the church; the lyrics really summed up how we felt about each other and how we had gotten together Unexpected Song Michael Crawford YouTube. Who is the author? - A gay editor - A gay blogger - not enough information - A gay writer
(Answer)
not enough information

Ques: "They've got cameras everywhere, man. Not just in supermarkets and departments stores, they're also on your cell phones and your computers at home. And they never turn off. You think they do, but they don't. "They're always on, always watching you, sending them a continuous feed of your every move over satellite broadband connection. "They watch you fuck, they watch you shit, they watch when you pick your nose at the stop light or when you chew out the clerk at 7-11 over nothing or when you walk past the lady collecting for the women's shelter and you don't put anything in her jar. "They're even watching us right now," the hobo added and extended a grimy, gnarled digit to the small black orbs mounted at either end of the train car. There were some days when I loved taking public transportation, and other days when I didn't. On a good day, I liked to sit back and watch the show, study the rest of the passengers, read into their little ticks and mannerisms and body language, and try to guess at their back stories, giving them names and identities in my head. It was fun in a voyeuristic kind of way. And luckily, today was a good day. I watched the old Vietnamese woman with the cluster of plastic shopping bags gripped tightly in her hand like a cloud of tiny white bubbles. My eyes traced the deep lines grooving her face, and I wondered about the life that led her to this place. I watched the lonely businessman staring longingly across the aisle at the beautiful Mexican girl in the tight jeans standing with her back to him. He fidgeted with the gold band on his finger, and I couldn't tell if he was using it to remind himself of his commitment or if he was debating whether he should slyly slip it off and talk to her. The author's ride on public transportation probably lasted: - two days - an hour or less - one day - not enough information
Ans: an hour or less

The collaborative process between me and Claire Bridge has been good so far. Upon finding out her email address we had a brief email exchange culminating in me sending her a list of potential questions for the interview. Claire quite liked a lot of the questions, but overall there were too many, so we proceeded to reduce the number of questions to six main questions. These questions would then form the basis of the artist portrait, with an attempt to limit answers to no more than a minute, so little had to be cut for the final edit. The six questions we arrived at are as follows: How would you define creativity? What does it mean to you to be an artist? Do you feel a painting or piece of art can house an energy/a feeling from the original artist? Do you feel that your own works house this energy? Change and transformation are recurrent themes in your work. What are you exploring and why do these fascinate you? And recently we saw a change in your medium too, incorporating video works and photography. You seem to draw on many influences in your work, from quantum physics, astrophysics, to environmental ecology, psychology, philosophy and metaphysics. With titles like "Dark Matter", "Touching Infinity", "We are made of Stars", "Rising tides" and "A drop in the ocean" or "Alchemy". Can you tell us something more about the convergence of these ideas and influences? What continues to motivate and inspire you as an artist? We both felt these questions addressed the initial topic of exploring creativity, explored why Claire became an artist, gives insight into Claire's work and practise and looks toward the future of Claire's practice. After refining the questions, we proceeded to organise a day to film, which will be on the 16th September. Hopefully if all goes well we will both have an artist portrait that lives up to our expectations. What happened after the author sent Claire a list of potential questions? - Claire said she would answer them later - not enough information - they reduced the number of questions down to six - Claire answered all of them
they reduced the number of questions down to six