mon potager

This is a good time of year for changes, with spring on its way and all. There have been many changes in process since last fall, though, so change is nothing new in my household. Six months ago I got hitched to this wonderful man, and we celebrated by hiking and sailing in Maine.

That was six months ago, and we have been very busy. We've settled into "the homestead," a lovely colonial house a short crow-flight west of Boston, and are deep into the nesting process. I am itching to sink my fingers into our 1.3 acres, and you better believe I've been planning. This year I plan to concentrate mostly on the front dooryard and the vegetable garden. I have grown vegetables (zucchini, peppers, lettuce, herbs) in containers, but never from seed (except a few radishes and parsley), so this is exciting... so much space! Lots of sun! This is our backyard:

The back of the house faces south. There is a small weeping cherry that keeps calling to me to prune him, and a massive stone wall that is crying out to be decorated with sedums, ferns, and alpines. 

I planted a few things last fall: a discounted thrift (Armeria), a sad-looking delphinium that probably won't survive, and a few large handfuls of bulbs, but aside from the two-day Leaf-Raking Extravaganza, that was really it as far as garden maintenance. Now that the amaryllis has died down, and snow drops are poking up round about, my green thumb is tingling to get active. My plan, at least near the house, is to go big: drifts of grasses and perennials, à la Oehme Van Sweden. Septic hill, too could use a big swath of heather to mask its artificiality. We'll see how it goes, what we can afford and what I have time to do. For now, what I have time for is this:  

That is Chizwick, my sister's cat, on the sill. It's a good bird-watching spot. He's hanging out with us for the moment, until he can catch a flight out to CA, where they've moved. Anyway, see my lovely little plants! Wait, I'll give you a better look: 

You want to see even closer? Here: 

That's my little radicchio in the foreground, blushing with the attention. Behind it is basil. These photos are now a week old. Now the lettuce (above, right) is huge and needs to be transplanted. I've also planted a startlingly purple basil, just now showing its teensy ultra-violet leaves. Alpine strawberry and garlic chives have yet to show a hint of green above the soil, though I just read that chives want to be germinated in the dark. Whoops, I'd better remove them from the window sill. Waiting in the wings are tomatoes, eggplant, arugula, cilantro, charentais melon, squash seeds that I saved from I think a kabocha squash that was especially tasty, zucchini, mint, haricot verts... a few other things, and some flower seeds... I've probably gone overboard. But! Not everything will be planted at the same time. The black kale seeds probably won't be planted, for example, until August. And some things (the flower seeds) will be planted directly into the soil. Maybe I'm not crazy. Maybe I am. Time will tell. 

I thought I'd try to post the vegetable garden's progress here for a while, so you all can be entertained at the mistakes I make, or as the bunnies all eat the feast I prepared for them, or whatever other disaster befalls. I've cared for vegetables before, I know how to weed, I'm stubborn and willing to get up early to water my plants at the crack of dawn. So... how bad can it be? 

I am most afraid of all the other things, besides me, that will want to eat my plants. 

last September, Ravello

In September 2010, I had the good fortune to go to Italy. The trip was academic in nature: my studio class was studying the site of an archeological park in Castellammare di Stabia on the Bay of Naples, a site centering on two villas that were part of the Roman town of Stabiae. We stayed at the Restoring Ancient Stabiae Institute, a former seminary with views of Mt. Vesuvius. During the day, we did field work, went to lectures, and ate long lunches. Occasionally, we were treated to outings by bus to see local attractions, usually after we had completed a cycle of staying up all night drinking Italian wine working and then formally presenting our designs, and were thus somewhat loopy.

restoring

Looking East on the Kittatinny Ridge. To the left, Red Hill, to the right, the AT as it climbs the Eastern Kittatinny Ridge on the other side of the Lehigh River Gap

[Note: Yes, it's been forever since I've written anything here. I apologize for the hiatus. A big piece of news (if anyone out there who reads this doesn't know this already): I am engaged! Mike proposed on the Grand Canal at Versailles--trop romantique et tellement bon. This fall has been very busy and I've been focusing on work (my last year of grad school! youpie!) and wedding. Recently, I had an incredible weekend with Restoration Ecology class. We went to restoration sites in Maryland and Pennsylvania. We met sea turtles and a former coalminer and "Tea Party activist" who runs the largest compost business in PA. It was a whirlwind. Below is an excerpt--slightly edited for internet--from a report I wrote about one particular site that deeply impressed me. Everyone, look up the Lehigh Gap Nature Center and become a member. They are doing such impressive work there and need the support. Excuse the proselytizing.]
     
The Kittatinny Ridge was an impressive sight as we drove through Slatington towards the Lehigh Gap, and as we pulled into the parking lot at the Lehigh Gap Nature Center everyone’s eyes were fixed on that massive rise of rock laid bare. By the end of the visit, awestruck feeling inspired by the stark landscape shifted to awe at what a small number of determined people have been able to accomplish to restore a devastated environment. Dan Kunkle, Director of the Lehigh Gap Nature Center, narrated the story of zinc smelting in Palmerton. Zinc companies were drawn to the area because of the nearby coal mines—coal was more expensive to ship than zinc, so the zinc company shipped zinc from New Jersey to where the coal was coming right out of the ground. Between 1898 and 1980, two zinc smelting plants owned by the New Jersey Zinc Company poured zinc, cadmium, lead, and sulfur-containing smoke from their stacks, a deadly smog that eventually killed all the vegetation on the slopes of the surrounding hills. With the trees and other plants dead, topsoil washed off the slopes, leaving a rocky substrate contaminated to 8 inches with heavy metals. In 1983, the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) declared the area a Superfund site.

Ruin of the New Jersey Zinc Company West Plant

The Lehigh Gap Nature Center presides over a thriving and growing wildlife refuge right around the corner from a blasted heath. The Lehigh river, once owned by the Lehigh Coal and Navigation company, has recovered from its once foul condition and now is home to otters and wood ducks. The ridge has pitch pine and hairgrass savanna at its high elevations, which Indians and settlers once burned to encourage good low-pH soil and sun for blueberries. There are also two endangered species on the ridge: Fringed Bleeding-heart (Dicentra eximia) and Glade Sandwort (Minuartia patula). Dan is a TogetherGreen fellow and winner of a “Best Citizen” award from the county (he didn’t tell us this last part, I ran across an article online). He left his job teaching high school biology and environmental science to run the Lehigh Gap Nature Center, and credits his wife for allowing him to pursue this dream. He's also one of the most pleasantly modest people you could meet. He’s made restoring the Kittatinny Ridge his life’s work. Dan explained the EPA goals: revegetate with native species, stop the erosion problems, and fix metals in the substrate—using plants that do not bio-accumulate metals—so they are immobilized and unable to migrate into water sources. Included in the Superfund designation are Blue Mountain, a 2 ½ mile long mountain of zinc waste, the town of Palmerton, and the water of Palmerton. CBS Television is (through a long history of companies buying each other) the responsible party. The New Jersey Zinc Company started a restoration on the east side of Kittatinny that is now 20 years in progress, and still has not fulfilled the EPA’s goals. Dan attributes this failure to a lack of vegetation management and intrinsic problems with the restoration method—based on a soil/public waste compost mixture called "EcoLoam." The east side of Kittatinny restored by NJZC has vegetation, but it is chock full of invasive species and bio-accumulating tree species. 

Canada Wild Rye

Little Bluestem

In light of the failure of NJZC's restoration, Dan said, he posed the questions: How would nature repair the mountain, and how can we find out and jump start the process? To answer these questions, the restoration effort turned towards ecological models. Dan knew that sometime during the post-glacial period, grassland would have been part of the first succession of  plants. That grassland literally laid the foundations for soil which eventually supported forest on the Kittatinny Ridge. He also knew that there are areas where the soil is naturally high in heavy metals, such as serpentine barrens. Several different kinds of warm season grasses grow on serpentine barrens. Warm season grasses do not accumulate heavy metals. Would warm season grasses work on Kittatinny Ridge? Fifty-six one-acre test plots were planted in 2003, and the success of the test plots led to planting seeds with a crop duster in 2004. Along with the seed-planting program, compost was spread up to the highest slopes that could be reached with a tractor. Lime was added to bring the pH up from 4.5 to 6. The compost was essential for establishing decomposers on the barren contaminated substrate, on which all fungi had died. The crop duster worked, and the program was continued on higher slopes. Among the grasses planted were switchgrass (Panicum virgatum), little bluestem (Schizachyrium scoparium), Indian grass (Sorghastrum nutans), canada wild rye (Elymus canadensis), and lovegrass (Eragrostis). Along with the grasses, other plants started to grow, among them invasive species such as Buddleia and Ailanthus. Birch and poplar also started to grow, presenting a management challenge. The warm-season grasses do not bio-accumulate, but these trees and the invasive species do, and will end up mobilizing the heavy metals in the contaminated substrate when they shed leaves and eventually die. Dan has organized a monitoring and management program to remove the invasive species with herbicide. He explained that because the heavy metals will always be there in the sub-soil, adaptive management is crucial. There is a challenge not only with plants bringing heavy metals up into their tissues, but also the soil could shift around over time and re-expose the contaminated substrate, leaving it exposed and able to be washed away with rainwater. Over time, the metals may become less biologically available, but that will take a century or more. Some local people and organizations say they prefer to “let nature restore itself,” but the movement of heavy metals makes that approach foolhardy. Dan told us of hiking with a president of the Appalachian Trail Conservancy on Kittatinny Ridge, and indicating to her that with the contaminated substrate on ATC lands exposed to the elements, heavy metals were washing downstream with every rain storm. The warm-season grasses are working to gradually prevent the heavy metals from mobilizing, but it is a fragile balance.

spring sprung for sure, bringing news with it...

The very tall cherry tree in the Bradbury's backyard is set off nicely by the Norway spruce behind it. Right now it is shedding a snow of petals all over.

Deadlines loom. There are Great Expectations and very little time. If there weren't beautiful things like this cherry tree around, I think I'd go nuts.

By the way, it seems likely that I will be in France this summer. I've been accepted to an internship at the Potager du Roi (King's Kitchen Garden) at Versailles. The National Landscape Architecture School of France (École Nationale Supérieure du Paysage) is located at Versailles and manages the Potager du Roi. The other intern (also a Cornell LA grad student) and I will be sharing a studio apartment in Versailles.

I am hoping to have some time this summer to work on personal landscape design projects, such as my parent's woodland property in New Hampshire. It all depends on the dates of the internship, which I am expecting to hear... well, yesterday... but am trying not to be the impatient American. I am reminded of when Mike and I spent some time in Tennessee and I had a small amount of culture shock at the slower pace of southern living ("Why is she taking so long to make your espresso?" "Relax... they have a slower pace of life down here, and we're not in a hurry.") It was true, not just a stereotype! I suspect there is a similar spirit, a certain anti-hectic attitude, in France. I think of Peter Mayle's repairmen (see A Year in Provence) and their flexible attitude towards scheduling... So I am trying not to think about the price of airline tickets going up, and trust that they will respond to my emails soon.

Just three more intense weeks, and then I'll be able to breathe a bit more easily. Meanwhile I am trying to soak up spring as much as possible from the window and while biking home late at night, hearing the sound of cheeping peepers and smelling wafts of crabapple blossom along the dark road.

cabin fever

Reading this article on foraging made me long to be able to wander in the woods, collecting various tasty wild edibles. Oh, how I miss being able to go outside without sinking ankle-to-knee deep in slush. Piles and piles of wet snow and mud outdoors, piles and piles of "to-do" lists piling up in my brain and on my desk... this is not a fun time of year.

I have a lot of photos in a rotating slideshow on my desktop, and the photos of flowers that I've been taking over the years have really been cheering me up. Since I have a whole lot to do and still haven't been able to get those paintings from my Key West vacation up on the blog, for now I will post a few flowers per week until spring comes (this may be a while, Ithaca being Ithaca).

Here is one of my favorites. This is Anemone occidentalis or Western Pasqueflower. It was growing in the Cascades, near Mt. Rainier. Click on the photo to enlarge it, and check out the beautiful downy hairs on its outer petals.

more loot from the semester bag

Today I am trying very hard to remember the good things I've accomplished this semester, and not beat myself up about the few things that I wish I'd done better. I had a bad dream last night in which one of my professors was chewing me out about the poor quality of my work and saying that this was not the program for me. Oof. Stop it, subconscious. To whit:

• I taught my first class, ever: Watercolor for Landscape Architects. I managed to pull together a show of my student's work, and it was so satisfying to see people examining & admiring the artwork every time I passed through the LA gallery. Below, one of the demonstration paintings I made (for a class on using gouache paints together w/watercolor). I wish I could show you some of my students' work. I learned a lot from teaching this class, both about teaching and about painting techniques.
  

• I learned a lot more about Photoshop. It's exciting to be able to make use of more of its tools, and to push the limits of those tools. I've learned that I *can* make original art with a computer that is not so different in feeling from a traditional-media painting. Below, #3 of the triptych of images I made to illustrate my studio project (other two, previous post).

• I started to make friends with AutoCAD and Sketchup. My goal is to be so comfortable with all the main programs that I can combine them fluidly and cut down on work time significantly. Already I've learned that it's much faster to create a measured section drawing in CAD, and then render it by bringing it through Illustrator and Photoshop. Hurrah faster sections! (you'll have to enlarge this one (a section of the existing site) to see its detail)

• I've also learned, through Stormwater and Site Engineering classes, so much more about stormwater management practices, and the creative possibilities of combining the science of these practices with visual/spatial goals for a site. Below, a bus shelter design that incorporates (in this section view) a green roof, permeable pavement, and a raingarden. The bus stop would also be a WiFi hotspot, and include bike storage in its footprint. Part of its roof would have solar panels, to run the lighting for the shelter, and power the WiFi router.

This design was for a group final project concerning a Prototype Stormwater Master Plan for Cornell, which we presented to the campus landscape architect, a campus engineer, and a traffic/building systems coordinator. We received very positive responses about our expanded-amenity transit stops/shelter idea (which was but one of our several ideas concerning stormwater-focused design in various areas of the campus). I was really excited about this class, because I had come into it knowing next to nothing about stormwater practices and it opened a whole new chapter of possibilities.

So, difficult semester in some ways, I definitely feel more pressure to learn new programs and get huge amounts of work done in painfully condensed spaces of time. I'm excited for, not dreading, next semester.

Now, for some holiday hectic-time (but FUN hectic-time), and then off to Key West. I'm looking forward to doing some painting, taking photos of egrets and anhingas, and going to some new places (the Keys!) and some old favorite places (Sanibel Island!). Crossing my fingers for warm sunshiny weather...

the payoff for my cramped shoulder/neck muscles

What I've been doing all weekend: learning how to create weather in Photoshop.
And the same place, in winter:

traffic patterns and urban stress

The title of this post could be a metaphor for my current grad school life. Currently in the landscape of Liz, there are

traffic jams (when there is too much work at once and nothing seems to get done fast enough)
flat tires (when I run out of steam and have to take an evening off from work to do nothing more than sleep)
and a few confusing detours to the freeway (changing and then finally settling on my concept two and a half weeks into the studio project).









(click on image to enlarge) I started off the semester with a whirlwind tour through the traffic of Brooklyn, en route to a site visit (see Flatbush Avenue and Grand Army Plaza in Brooklyn, above), and then a wedding. This was appropriate, as it turns out, because traffic is such a huge issue in and around this site. After fighting with the problem of traffic for a couple of weeks (see above), I finally (ah Liz, always learning the hard way) decided to make traffic patterns a key part of my concept, and in fact base my design around traffic flow. This has been really challenging and also exciting, as I previously had not thought about traffic much, aside from it being an annoyance of the first order.
So now I'm all set up to put together a project I'll be proud of... I just need to pull all my current maps, graphs, and plans together for the Midterm Critique next Wednesday. And in between drive to Boston and back for a wedding this weekend. I hope I don't run into that much traffic...

snapshots from the spring semester, or bidding farewell to a year of hand-graphics

Our studio work will be nearly all digital graphics next year, so with this knowledge I especially enjoyed the opportunity to work on and improve my hand graphics skills. The prevailing hand graphics style in landscape architecture is stylized and geometrical, as one might expect. Nonetheless, personal style (so long as it is somewhat refined and "readable") is admired and encouraged. Also, it is still a necessary skill. Firms (so our profs tell us) look for good hand graphics when hiring interns and staff.
Some people naturally have a personal style that adheres more closely to the LA "norm." This is sort of hard to explain, but I guess there is a graphic standard of sorts. It is the kind of drawing that you see in books teaching presentation graphics. One of my classmates has it. His drawings are beautifully technical. His handwriting is brilliantly clear and precise, in a really pleasing way. I aspire to perfect my handwriting; I know he's worked to get it so precise.
Looking back at my drawings from the year, I know I'm evolving a style of my own, which is really kind of exciting. It is equally as cool to see the distinct styles of my classmates. If I saw a book of only their drawings, I know I could identify the artist by the marks.
An elevation drawing from my final studio project

A second elevation, same project as top (this elevation is "perpendicular" to the one at top, showing the end, instead of the side, of the vine-covered pavilion)

Plan view of my pocket park for Graphics II

Axonometric view of the same park. I encourage you to click on this image to enlarge. There are lots of details, such as the one below. I had fun drawing the people at the café-bar. See? They are listening to the jazz trio playing on the terrace.

the snow semester

Previously I wrote about how the weather is really not so bad here. I may have revised my assessment a bit.
The snow is pretty, yes, and though it was grey most of today the sun did shine brilliantly through my apartment windows from 3 to 4:30. But for the most part, this is the annoying, depressing time of winter. The depressive quality can be attributed not only to the precipitation and lack of sun, but also to the very cold and the difficulty of getting around.
That sun streaming through my windows improved my mood quite a lot. Maybe I need to get one of those full-spectrum lamps. Due to a variety of factors, I haven't been feeling super happy this week. Lack of sun, lack of exercise (I intend to asap, possibly skiing this weekend? X that, skiing too expensive), adjusting to the rhythms of the new semester, lack of boyfriend, and anticipation of stress. Yes, I am an anxiety junkie: I stress about stress.
The obvious solution to feeling low at the beginning of the semester is to get involved with my work. Then once I take some steps towards getting on top of things, I'll take some time for reflection and relaxation. The low feelings will pass, soon.

Note on previous post: the people upstairs have been pretty quiet since I sent that email to my landlord. Not sure if he spoke with them or what, but quiet is good anyhow.

and we're back from the break! this just in...

One of my new year's resolutions is to improve blog entry quality. Out with the mundane, in with the thought-provoking! Problem with this has been, I am often too tired/distracted/eager to take a break from deep thoughts when I write & post blog entries. Since I'm taking an l.a. theory class this semester, perhaps I will quote from my better writings for that class (Ye gods, writing is required for an l.a. class?! Yes. Well the prof is a former english prof). Multitasking. Yes.

But first... a bit of mundane. Rather ranty, please excuse me. It's been accumulating.
Some of you may remember my complaining about the noise from upstairs neighbors? At first I was sort of amused at their youthful antics, such as playing Rock Band with their friends, jumping up and down, & whatnot. Then I got peeved at how loudly they seem to walk back and forth (stomp really) into the wee hours of the morning (seriously, they do not seem to sleep at all). Among other loud noises. Well, I tried earplugs, but those fell out and mushed into the sheets or hurt my ears.
Then last night, the night before start of classes for spring semester, my upstairs neighbors arrived back at 2am ish, after which followed half an hour of them clomping up and down stairs, slamming the front door (which is behind the head of my bed), and then clomping all over their apartment for an hour putting stuff away and (seemingly) moving furniture. While yelling at each other. I fell back to sleep. At 5:30am I woke again, because of sex noises from up there. Great. I was so pissed off I stood up on my bed and rapped with my fist on the ceiling. This kind of helped, though I immediately felt a little mean.

But sleep is very important to me as a grad student. I don't get a ton of it usually.

I know it is not their fault really, they just seem to be naturally loud people and the thinness of the ceiling does not help.

Well. I emailed my landlords to say "Hi my toilet is running and by the way the people upstairs are rather loud, don't know what I can accomplish by telling you but they woke me up an average of 3 nights per week last semester, so maybe telling you can help in some way." They emailed me back promptly (my landlords are great), to say "Toilet will be fixed soon, thanks for letting us know. But on the other issue, what do you mean by "people" and "they"? There is only one person on the lease for that apartment."

...

I didn't mean to get them in this much trouble, as I said to the landlords in my reply, but I also said "Yep there are two people living there as far as I can hear." Which is true. I didn't go into details. I would be surprised if the guy is paying rent somewhere else.

Don't know what will happen as my landlords are pretty strict, and this is a clear lease violation. I requested that the landlord not inform my upstairs neighbors that I ratted them out. It would be bad if they knew. But maybe it is obvious that it was me? Yeesh I hate house drama. This is why I do not want roommates.

Speaking of housing, I am currently leaning towards living with my lovely lovely relatives the Bradburys next academic year. I have started to think that I do not want the responsibility of helping other grad students with their problems. Additionally, because I spend quite a lot of time in the studio, as a landscape architecture student I may not be well suited for this position. Also the mandatory August 1 start date for the training might mean an internship would not be possible.

Living with the Bradburys would be fun and cozy, plus could potentially enable me to have time for a TA position or other campus job.

debris

Shrapnel from the work bomb that exploded in my apartment over this past week is still lying about. I slept until 11 this morning so there's not much chance of getting this cleaned up before I go to class (if I also want something to eat).
Prior to sleeping for 12 hours last night, I was up for 36 hours. This was the final push for that renaissance garden project and then I resisted taking a nap yesterday even though I had opportunity because I wanted to get myself back on a normal sleeping schedule. Ah, the worklag.* Last night helped me relax into "I can sleep now" mode. Watching "The Pianist" with friends, delicious snacks, red wine, and a warm puppy (Titan, Todd's pup) snoozing on my lap--all very restful and restorative. Sleep helped too.
Now I want to go on vacation to that renaissance villa/garden I created (it's on an island on a lake in Lombardy) and bring all my friends. I think 2 months of relaxation should do it.

In reality, though, in less than a week I will be at home in Dorchester with my puppy, and lovely family, with walks in the NH woods, a toasty wood fire, and leisurely good-food-eating in store.
It will be heaven.

*worklag is what happens when your sleep schedule gets thrown out of whack because of work. Because jetlag is not an appropriate word in this instance... unless your work involves jets? In which case the right word would really be jetworklag?

For now, see my Italian Renaissance Garden. Click on the picture for an up-close view.

progress

Today I worked at home all day, but I got a lot done so it was good, if a little claustrophobic. Above is the sketch-in-progress for my design of an Italian Renaissance garden. The assignment is to take a minimum of 6 pieces from different Renaissance villas, and combine them to make a "Villa Eclectica." That tadpole-head thing on the left will look better when it is balanced by the lemon grove I intend to put in just below it.

I know tis heresy, so help me Olmsted...

Landscape architecture-speak that makes me wince internally:

-dynamic flow
-materiality (and sticking -ality on the end of random words, i.e. functionality)
-organic nature (i.e. I'm really loving the organic nature of this curve. It has real dynamic flow.)
-architectonics (a meaningless word--is it even a word?--that is used in place of the word 'architectural,' a perfectly fine word)

List to be added to as it grows (and I grill my classmates for additions)...

3:30

That was my bedtime last night. I have only had a couple of nights like that in the past, and it has been a long time since the last one. It kind of amazes me that my body can DO that--I mean the staying up VERY late and then getting up and running on adrenaline. The sleepies and the headache hit after I presented my work, right when we broke for nibbles courtesy of my studio prof. The critique went well, I think. I agreed with the criticism Deni Ruggeri offered, though I am not quite sure if I understand him totally--he basically said that though he became interested in my presentation because my narrative in describing the work and my process drew him in, my work needs to speak for itself more and be more... hmmm... was it obviously interrelated that he

meant? Did he mean that I need more signage on my work? I want to know if it is something in my process that I need to work on or is it just that I didn't have time to put in all the signage I wanted to.

On the time front, I am totally and completely going to get better at using my time wisely when working on a weeks-long project like this. The guy who sits next to me seems really good at getting steps done quickly, and also at not obsessing and presenting his work well. He's my new role model and I'm going to study what he's doing. Though not in a creepy way.

In other news, my bike is broken. It's this outdated gearing system I have. I need to research how to fix it so I can do it myself instead of spending loads of money and time.

A detail of my design plan--a stone terrace built into a steep, wooded hillside above a creek

stage 1 of any project: site analysis

plotting

I am up late yet again, in the computer lab at studio. I went to bed at 2:30 am the last two nights, and I really wanted to go to bed by, say, 10:40 or so tonight. But then... then in class this afternoon we were talking about technology. Specifically, the kind of programs we're supposed to learn, and also the technology available in the lab. I felt a bit overwhelmed, and I had the idea that for the weekend homework, the first project board (a sort of distillation of my site analysis, a precursor to the actual designing) I would do some of the graphics on the computer. I thought this would help with the drowning feeling. Anyway, in my head the design included some computer-rendered elements. The photo in this post is one of the photos I used on the board. This wildflower is found all over the site.
So I designed the bones of the board in Photoshop (granted, this is a program I'm familiar with, but it's always good to practice), and now I'm waiting for the large-format printer, or "plotter," to wake up and print the damn thing already. It's called plotting, this process of printing to the monster printer. It takes about 20 minutes to print.

And... the plotter just scraped the surface of the paper while printing, so there's a noticable smudgy spot on one of my photos. Grrrrrrr.

At least, maybe, I'll get to bed by 1:00.

Edit: hmm... don't know why the time posted appears as 8:15 PM. It was actually 11:45. Odd.

better things to be doing

Yes, there are better things I could be doing with my time. Since I am now a grad student, there are many many better things I could be doing with my time. But reflection is important too.
My first full week of classes is rolling along, though it feels like today should be Friday and actually it is only the second day of the working week. Today I have class 9-10:30, as in 10:30 at night. I'm going to an AutoCAD class after classes. My Tuesdays and Thursdays are rather nutty like that. Monday Wednesday Friday I don't have class until 1:25pm, which means some valuable open time in the mornings.
My classes:
Composition & Theory (studio class)
Landscape Representation 1
History of European Landscape Architecture
Creating the Urban Eden

Urban Eden is probably my favorite class so far, because it's all about learning best plants for which sites, site assessment, and then actually designing with plants for an actual site. THEN next semester a design will be chosen from the class work and we will implement the design, for real. Right in front of Kennedy/Roberts Hall (Kennedy is where the LA studio is located). Plus memorizing lots (LOTS) of plants. I have a quiz on 22 plants this Thursday. I know some of the plants already, so that's good for me. I concentrate on the ones I don't know.
I talked to my professor for Landscape Representation, and he has agreed to advise me on an independent study, since I have some experience with landscape representation. That way I can use the class time for the independent study. Next order of business: deciding what to do for the independent study. Something I can carry through the semester and not get bored with, that will provide me with rich, challenging material. Anyway, something to ponder.
I didn't realize how much my background would help me until I started classes and really saw for myself, but I am very happy about this. It validates my studio art degree, for one thing. It makes me feel I have good dirt to grow in, for another. It also makes me feel more ready to challenge myself.