ending is only a beginning

The culmination of my thesis presentation ended with this image, which I - in a choked voice -  said, "The collection here represents the opportunity to savory every juicy bite of life, before we find our last.  To celebrate our collected colorful humanity, after all, we are but millions of tiny particles of reflected light which make up our millions of wondrous colors."

It has been an amazing ending to a semester, year, and master's program that is technically not quite finished.  This year has been one of great changes and transformations, not only for myself, but for loved ones near and far, and even those who I do not know well.  I spoke last night of the day when I first met up with Craig at The powerHouse Arena in July of last year.  I had nothing to do but meet with him in the afternoon.  It was one of the few hot days last summer that it didn't rain.  I woke up that morning to a rat in my kitchen and it quickly turned the day on its head.  A good friend from Pratt came over and helped me to patch up the hole in my kitchen closet that the animal had chewed through.  Another friend helped me to land another apartment within two weeks after the rat incident.  The rat was a final straw to two years of sub-par living conditions.  However I had lived in that apartment for nine years and had made myself a home there.  This year has been a transition to my new place, which I don't call home.  It's a very nice resting place for the time being.  Home is where I'm able to hang my light butter yellow curtains trimmed with sea-foam teal.  I was reflecting on this past year over something to eat this morning.  While looking at the style section of the New York Times and came across that Bill Cunningham is moving from his studio in Carnegie Hall - he's lived in since 1949 - or 50, he can't remember.  It reminds me that we are never alone in this world with our shifts and changes, nor do we usually find ourselves at the far end of a spectrum - places of extreme loss or gain, we are often in the middle and in constant oscillation.

Fall came, and there were some specific points of celebration, which also were most unfortunately punctuated with great loss. Life changed, beyond my most imaginable perception, and sometimes, feel that I'm still recovering.  But life went on, and 2010 started with great promise.  Early on, the world lost wonderful people who made amazing contributions to the world of design and the feeling of immense responsibility has landed on my shoulders to carry on a tradition of design that I believe in.

At this same time the graduating class of the MID program at Pratt decided to collaborate on a show.  I was blessed with working with David Steinvurzel, together we headed up the project and he was the best partner I could have imagined.  I am indebted to my class - all of whom had faith in what we were doing and stood behind it all and without everyone's collaborative efforts would never have been the success that it was and is.  All of their contributions in website design, PR, food, drink, set up, design of posters, and construction of show all went together.  Thank you to MID class of 2010.  I am so proud to be a part of you.

I am truly honored at the showing at my presentation yesterday, I couldn't see everyone in the audience, but I did see seats filled and people standing.  Shortly after was a celebratory memorial for one of the great losses of 2010, Leonard Bacich, which is what I referenced in my closing statement in my thesis presentation.

Although this is likely my longest blog posting, I still feel that I'm at a loss for words, and know that it will be a huge course of time before it all sinks in.  Like many colors in the world there are no words or labels that can truly describe the sight, and emotions that are felt at times like this.  It's hard to write everything down and make any sense of it all.  It' still all so fresh.  I wanted to capture some of it here and now, and then come back to it tomorrow, next week, and months and years from now and see where I am and how I feel about it at that point in time.  I will always remember this as pushing myself to the ultimate limit, and having faith that everything would - and will work out.  What a journey this has been.

It was an amazing balancing act, even on the night's I was too tired to dream in color.