And the winner is....

Well, I finally "heard": mostly thumbs-down, but one big thumbs-up.

I will be heading to the Chicago area in October for a two-week artist residency: it's semi-supported (i.e., it doesn't cost the earth, unlike a certain residency program in Alberta), but I do have to get there.

So I'm spending huge chunks of my days writing grant applications (one due next Wednesday) to go, trying to find other ways to pay for airfare, which is now utterly outrageous. In a perfect world, I'd have some time in the area to do some research for the next work in my series of Frank Lloyd Wright artifacts as knitted objects, but given the horrific expense of Chicago hotel rooms as well....



Thus, I am spending far too much time in front of my computer, instead of having a creative life: having to force myself away from the flickering box is difficult until I actually do it, and then I remember why I have to.



Like going for a walk, and finding a solitary sandpiper Tringa solitáris quietly standing on a rock in the middle of a stormwater outflow.



Or widely varying fungus: the most I can remember seeing in all the years I've lived in Calgary.



And these two lady mallard ducks, performing an elegant synchronized swimming routine.

Must. Finish. Grant. Off. Soon.

Do You Feel Lucky?

Any fan of Clint Eastwood's portrayal of Dirty Harry in the original movie (like me, for example) will recognize that line from the opening sequence, where he's got the bad guy trapped on the ground after a bank heist.

But the crook isn't sure if Harry's popped off six shots or only five, and thinks, briefly, about making a break for it. When he decides to give himself up, he looks up at Harry and says I gots to know.

That's my favourite line in that scene.



Probably because I'm the same way: the thing I hate most about job-hunting, as I've been doing lately, is the sending of my CV off and it promptly disappearing off into the electronic void. Given the quantity of applicants, I can understand that if you don't get an interview, you'll probably never hear back, but I actually got an interview for a position three weeks ago.

While I didn't get a second interview (and, in retrospect, realize that it was not a job I would have been happy with), I didn't even get the courtesy of a call or email telling me that I hadn't made it past that round. For a supposedly civilized and well regarded company (whose name I won't mention here), I certainly wasn't impressed with the interview I did get, which was conducted by two young women who, I suspect, had neither a background in "human resources" nor any previous experience in interviewing anyone for anything.



The "waiting for the phone to ring" syndrome never seems to go away: right now, I spend my mornings alternately dreading and gleefully anticipating the arrival of our postal carrier as I wait for word about a residency I applied for: I made it as far as the waiting list for the summer session, and have hopes of getting an offer for the fall. At least, part of me has "hopes": a much larger part wants to get back to work and make money.

But I gots to know.



Meanwhile, I get ambitious with the camera from time to time, and I've been working on a series of pictures that I'm going to "do something" with: the ones on this blog post aren't them though, but a few shots from during and after Stampede.