Speaking of blindness and veracity in advertising.
onwards
Working at Parsons as that is my wont these weekdays and inundated today and yesterday with Middling City confusion and chaos, oh so non-productive for one who must teleport oneself to another galaxy to benefit most from a graduate undertaking of thinking and art making.
Fi(r)stly.
The publisher of the paper. In a blink of a chintzy eye there was an economic squabble between yours truly/newspaper over a $50 portion of a cell phone bill, incredibly. The incentive to say hello! to a two week sabbatical ensued. This concept was greeted with a big gigantic I told you so (to take a leave from the get-grad-go) from said publisher.
Then there was his post-summer inability to meet with me because of inter-office construction. Then emails were sent by me to set up a time to meet. Today I heard from Lead Boy Colleague that the word on the street is that I quit - my job description shifted radically in my absence.
Item 1.
I am/was/will be forever and ever a columnist.
Item 2.
I am not a photo editor.
Item 3.
Photo editors edit photograhic content of newspapers.

Future: I told publisher pal that I am interested in special features, continuing column and perhaps even being a senior editor with occasional feature writing. No reply.

Dear sweet grappling blogreaders.
This is a time of transition and your openmindedness and fairmindedness regarding me, my commutes, my undertakings, my shifts, my dilemmas and my goal-seeking are greatly appreciated.
Some of these posts are poetic riffs, some blend fact and foe and fiction.
Dig?
All my undying and photographic and artful Love.
You know what that is.
ps: met with Jim, my nouveau advisor who fucking rocks. He told me to distill my ideas down to five items. Still and distill. Be still, no way. Knowing his audience/me he gave me a big categorical metaphor in terms of musical genres. And, dig this, I dug it down to its note-addled core.