On Learning to See

It is surprising to me how much I enjoy being a student, how I have relaxed into being there with the other students, how I’ve been able to connect with some of them: Veronica, the very young, very energetic very psychotropic girl; Dallas, my soon-to-be new flatmate; Yasna, the quiet middle-aged woman. Classes can be exhausting, but they’re worth the effort.

The Grad Show and Art Auction is up. I’m thinking of bidding on a painting, a wonderful, large painting by some graduating artist. Just a plain painting in neutral sandy gray tones, a portrait of some man. It would be a lovely addition to my collection. It would be wonderful hanging in the stairwell, on the east wall, near the skylight.

Today we did life drawing, the model was an older man. Drawing on older male model was completely different from drawing the beautiful young man a month or so ago. While drawing him, I thought that I’d never drawn (or seen) an older naked man before, though now I think of it, we had Peter Reed modelling for us, and he’s older too. I forget that he was one of our models. I had almost completely forgetten about him.

Dinner tonight was coconut curry pork and mushrooms and sugar peas and asparagus with naan bread, and now I’m drinking chai with lots of milk. The curry sauce was made using yellow curry paste and a tin of coconut milk. Easy and yummy, and almost as good as freshly chopped and ground spices and ingredients. Easy and yummy is important to me: the idea of doing big complicated meals is currently beyond my abilities. I want simple.

I lost my employee transit pass the other day, so I’ve been begging rides from drivers. No-one has turned me down so far. It feels weird though, begging for  free bus rides: the routes I take, I see a lot of needful people begging for rides and sometimes I find it difficult not to judge them. Am I being judged? Maybe. Oh well, in a week or so the pass will be replaced and I can stop begging for rides.

I could of course, pay the fares, but I’m not willing to pay busfare when I’ve already paid for the pass.

“I’ve lost my bus pass. Could I have a ride?” The drivers hear these lines or something like them all the time. I wonder if these drivers give me rides because they give rides to everyone who asks, or because of my appearance…Probably some of each.

Having seen some of the needful people who ask for rides on the 10 Hastings, the 16 29th Avenue Station and the 20 Victoria buses that I routinely take, I think that the drivers don’t so often see someone as clean cut and well-groomed (! – not many  people would use these modifiers to define me) as I am begging for rides. People who look like me tend to just pay the fair regardless that they’ve already paid. People who look like me tend to go quietly without raising dust.

~ by thiscassandra on Friday 24 March 2006.

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