Gala

During some of my posts, it may have become clear to my readers that I have, at best, an ambiguous outlook on this class. While I believe it has been created and run with the best of intentions, I have found some of the lecture topics, and their relevance to the average creative individual, to be somewhat hit-or-miss.

The gala was a different story.

Arriving early, 5:30 to my usual 6:30, I saw several projects set up already. It soon became clear to me that nobody was phoning this one in, so to speak. The days of high schoolers and their devil-may-care attitude towards school was over. Every project had a unique premise and clearly took a good chunk of time to create.

As the night went on, video performances mixed with creative mingling. My group had an opportunity to carry out a discussion on our project with all four of the members of the "teaching team," as well as a long conversation with Brian Hendricks, who attended as well. I found this conversation to be the best part of the course - period - to date. It almost seemed like the teaching team didn't anticipate the quality level they were met with in this project. There was nothing but rants and raves for our project, a "Tree of Life," so to speak. Whether or not this carries over to the marking stage remains to be seen.

Even as I sat to the side of the room, alone with my thoughts, I couldn't help but smile. Choruses of singing came from the centre of the room, artistic discussion found its way to all corners, and people circulated, genuinely having a good time.

I applaud the rousing success of this gala; I will discuss it more during my second post today. But, for now, I leave you with my newest poem, written about last night's grand event.

THE ARTIST'S PLACE

For a night,
chemistry and physics are forgotten,
and fear of grades are thrown
from the windows.

For a night,
there is no competition,
no need for a winner
among artists,

For a night,
it is no mere place;
it is the artist`s place.

To belong to them
for as long as their works stay intact
in memory or in form.

To belong to them
for as long as academia falls behind the arts
as often as we all can get away with it.

To belong to them
for as long as they remember the night
when art ran wild.