Thoughts: there were some but I can't remember what they were. Some kind of pseudo psychological philosophical political hybrid that would, at first glance inside my head seem to solve every lingering doubt I've ever had and snap into place the mysteries of the universe. Instead I'm sitting here in the Public Meeting Area on the corner of 2nd and Mission, no longer trying to remember and looking around the glass atrium, waiting for a student who I'm supposed to be tutoring for a class called Form Development, an industrial design class where the students are expected to make a fiber glass shell for something like a mouse or a flashlight highly polished and finished.
Tutoring for this class might consist of going over some notes but this student, who doesn't make it to class often or on time or even really attempt assignments and I'm guessing asked for a tutor to prolong the realization or maintain the illusion that yes, no I don't actually care about this subject but will half heartedly attempt OH HEY, SHE'S HERE...We talked about her project, abstractly, the steps she needs to take in the shop and took notes; pieces of foam, ways to second guess ourselves and others, styrene speed forms, running our fingers along contours and away from the smoldering hot iron of all that, but we're moving is what's important.
Moving through and in stepping back we might see the entire picture but for now we'll keep it close to the people coming through the doors; the metal table reflecting light; a group of office women and pairs of workers eating lunch, remembering what we're waiting for. What a tragedy! Matching bent nails with famous painters instead of asking questions, admitting that we really don't know or more simply that we do.
Tutoring for this class might consist of going over some notes but this student, who doesn't make it to class often or on time or even really attempt assignments and I'm guessing asked for a tutor to prolong the realization or maintain the illusion that yes, no I don't actually care about this subject but will half heartedly attempt OH HEY, SHE'S HERE...We talked about her project, abstractly, the steps she needs to take in the shop and took notes; pieces of foam, ways to second guess ourselves and others, styrene speed forms, running our fingers along contours and away from the smoldering hot iron of all that, but we're moving is what's important.
Moving through and in stepping back we might see the entire picture but for now we'll keep it close to the people coming through the doors; the metal table reflecting light; a group of office women and pairs of workers eating lunch, remembering what we're waiting for. What a tragedy! Matching bent nails with famous painters instead of asking questions, admitting that we really don't know or more simply that we do.
