The last couple of weeks have been incredible: gut-wrenching, exciting, nerve-wracking, exhausting, endearing- a whole mix of things that only now do I have the facilities to talk about it.

First of all, for a school with such a name this place can't seem to make anything happen smoothly. Some of us have been pushed from second year to third year and back to second again, faculty are like ghosts that I have to try to catch so they know I'm alive, and of course housing cant seem to tell me why my window won't shut (doesn't seem to be the most challenging issue to tackle, but somehow it's completely perplexing to them.)
To counter all of that, I have to say that the flip side is the group of really great people I've met. Once the sense of familiarity set in with them, the adjustment was like taking my feet off the bike pedals going down hill- all I have to do is hold on.

Time is spent most usually going to the studio during the day, or class on Tuesday, or smoking in front of the MaggyMac House (where we live), or around the dinner table eating dinner together, or the occasional pub visit. It's all pretty simple and I like it that way.

Last weekend, however was an exception... I went to do a home stay with a family on the east coast of Scotland. I was super nervous- in a lot of ways the set up is quite strange. Random American students are set up with (screened but none the less) random families to chill out for a weekend. The family turned out to be really fantastic though. I lucked out in getting a good match- some of the other students I went with didn't click so well with their families. The mom was really great, my favorite kind of mom- a mix of slightly cynical but still doting. The dad was a sweetheart, and the kids were inspiring. The seven year-old boy hammed it up quite a bit and charmed me with his spark. The thirteen year-old boy was a calm, good hearted middle child- I felt for him a bit as I could tell he was kind of annoyed with his position. At the top was the 15 year-old girl who, again, was great. She was a bit quiet, but not at all absent, she adored her baby brother, and I related to her position as surrogate mother.
The night I arrived, I shared a bottle of wine with the parents and stayed up chatting into the evening. It was a good start, well worth the hangover the mom and I both woke up with the next morning (I was relieved I wasn't the only one- the American shmuck waking up hungover at 10am, not so much) Saturday we had a pic-nic on the beach, threw frizbees around for a while, then went for icecream and to a party with the other students that evening. Fortunately this country isn't quite as critical of alcohol consumption because I cant seem to attend a party sober without being so nervous I choke on my words.
Sunday, woke up late again (the mom insisted I didn't wake up to an alarm) walked around a castle ruin on a cliff, got some fish and chips and then it was time to go. I came back to the city missing the rock in my belly I had left with.

This week, the pressure is on with studio work, so I'm going to call this one quits here and go do what I'm supposed to be doing.

more photos on photobucket soon. the internet connection to my computer is all backasswards and aint workin.