tried the whole theatre thing, found the politics and the passions not to my liking. I come from a more subtle background, one where i was expected to be more conceptual than workhorse. let's just say i wouldn't recommend summer stock. so after having my fill of fake cowboys elusive responsibilities, i find myself here, in richmond, modeling for the virginia commonweath university whilst i reach out my feelers and see what this art scene has to offer me. Residing in a beautifully ancient apartment in the crumbling outskirts of the fan district which has since become the student ghetto, i find myself in a bizarre time warp where i am still running on school time, meeting with teachers, walking into clssroom studios...
My first class was sculpture, something that was never really explored in my undergrad due to its... personal interperative nature. a tiny room, stands on casters, the 9 students and professor circled me, never more than a yard from the small square i stood on in the middle of the room. if for some reason there was a blemish on my backside, or potential wiff of sweat from booking it across town midday in overwhelming heat, well, they were well aquainted with it all, i assure you.
i enjoyed it.
and i tried to keep my inner critiques just where they were, inside of me.