This site–like its owner–is transforming
Dancing numbers under a rotating disco ball smile at me. The 4 stands awkwardly to the side, eyes shifting between me and the 3, and I begin to wonder if, as the day goes forward, the 4 will get just that half-step bolder, eventually shoving the 3 into the trash heap and taking its rightful place at the end of the number conga line.
Google has changed its masthead. The year, it seems, has come to an end.
We’re all at home this afternoon due to that little squall down in the Gulf of Mexico, so I decided to have a look at the photos I took for the first project in my digital art class. I’ll spare you the horror and just share this picture of my absolutely delectable subjects.
They’re all pretty much gone now; we had the broccoli (in the plastic bag to protect from dust) for lunch with the fabulous Stacy and Mimi, and I have it on good authority that the pineapple provided a perfect morning snack for two hungry toddlers on a rainy day playdate. The grapes and I got acquainted last night after supper.
I was supposed to get shots of my subjects that I could use in a hybrid fruit/vegetable/fruitable project, and I did take a few photographs, but they weren’t lit very well and the tripod was crooked and I just couldn’t seem to wrap my head around all the parts of the project, so I ate my subjects with the idea that I’d get a new batch over the weekend when the weather’s better and give it another go.
The really important thing that came out of this experience, though, was the reminder that we don’t all know how to do everything, and that we can always develop new competencies. Before going to take the photos, I participated in a small group discussion of our sketches for our projects, and all I could think about during the experience was how my writing students must feel when they have to share their drafts with their classmates. Maybe I’m wrong–maybe they all feel confident and competent as they send around those tentative words–but I know that at least a few of them over the years must have felt as I did yesterday: humble and inadequate and not a little bit frightened to reveal just how amateur and feeble my skills are in comparison to the work of those more confident and experienced than I.
So Ed Dante has come clean in a soon-to-be-published tell all (The Shadow Scholar: How I Made a Living Helping College Kids Cheat). I just read a Chronicle interview article with Daye Tomar, the ghostwriter, and after reading the comments, in which many writers took issue with Tomar’s ethos and morals or questioned the validity of his claim to having ghostwritten graduate level work, I can only speak in images.
Perhaps I shouldn’t be so cynical, but I have no trouble believing any of his claims. Of course, that doesn’t mean I think he was right to do what he did. Looking forward to reading the book.
Anita DeRouen 