Burlington, day 2

After a shitstorm of packing and unpacking and moving boxes from upstairs to the car to my parents house to the sun porch to the attic and back down again and then into my suitcases and then back out, I said goodbye to my family and hopped on a plane. 


The plane landed in Hamilton and my amazing friend Allison greeted me with hugs and a mini banana loaf. We drove around Burlington, blah blah blah wild garden dream house thai food chatting, and I went to bed early. 


After one day of wandering, Burlington feels pretty comfortable already. It's still very much summer here but everything looks friendly and... well... a lot like Fredericton. Minus the friends, favourite tea shops, and 8 minute walk to the downtown area of course, but familiar just the same. It feels like I'm in some strange dream where the landmarks are the same but in new places. Old routines almost fit, but not quite. 


Maybe I expected a jarring culture shock, something to really be rocked by, and maybe it hasn't come yet. Or maybe I'm supposed to be confounded by how easy it is to pick up your life and transplant it into a new city. We'll see. It's only the end of the second day and tomorrow will bring my first trip to the BAC. 

Packrat

Landing an artist residency right after graduating is a pretty nice way to transition from student to working professional. And landing one that'll take up six months of your life is exciting for a lot of reasons. With that kind of time you can really spend the effort developing new routines and skills, getting to know the artists around you, and you can plan a massive project (or several).

That's what I imagine it'll be like. I'm going to be spending six months at an art centre in ON. In my head it'll be fabulous, but I have to move, and that's guaranteed to throw a big old rusty wrench into everything.

Moving sucks. It really, really does. By nature we hoard little bits of inspiration, art supplies, tools, whatever. Stuff. Our studios (I've yet to see a clutter-free studio) become an extension of our racing minds and then we end up with boxes of nearly-empty paint tubes, or teeny balls of yarn, or stacks of paper and feathers and other oddments. I've been in this city for four years, and this particular apartment for two. There's a lot of stuff in there.

It's not the sorting out of basic personal belongings like clothes and dishes, but it's denuding the studio that really bothers me. Taking everything is obviously out of the question. Taking nothing seems irresponsible.

Artist residencies are perfect, scary opportunities to start fresh and see what you can actually make. A wilderness survival test of sorts. I've been asking friends what they brought with them for their residencies, and the responses were mixed. One, doing a two week residency, brought her camera and watercolour set and some paper, another, doing her MFA in Chicago, brought nothing. Both learned a great deal about their creative processes and it transformed the way they worked.

When I stare at the supplies in the "to bring" pile, I have no idea if I'm on the right track or completely insane, and that "to bring" pile will probably go through innumerable iterations before the final cut has to be made. 

Man Down

One tremendous perk of my job (job #3- Canadian Crafts Federation) is being up to date on cultural happenings in our country. I gather all of this information and then distill it into a bi-weekly newsletter distributed to the provincial Crafts Councils and others. A pretty grim piece of news crossed my desk yesterday, and while I'm not usually one to rant online, this situation certainly merits some drama. 

A few days ago the Cultural Human Resources Council quietly had it's throat slit.

The CHRC supported cultural sector workers (you, me, the Executive Directors of the galleries and councils we are members of, our fellow board members, broadcasters, educators, entrepreneurs, and makers...) through training, career development and management, education, and advocacy. Their Youth Internship program paved the way for our entrance into arts organizations when we were students. Their studies helped us plan budgets and explore new markets. They developed material for teachers and businesspeople alike.

Now they are scrambling to put into place systems and people to safeguard their invaluable information and programs and help cultural workers access these resources after their end date, March 2013.

The organization who pulled the trigger on CHRC, Human Resources and Skills Development Canada, has not publicly announced their actions, nor can any information about this be found on their website. 

Please send your support to the CHRC, and if you can help in any way, contact Sue Annis at sannis@culturalhrc.ca or by phone at 613-562-1535.

If you feel so inclined, please send your rage over to HRSDC (c/o. the Honourable Diane Finley), every stinking newspaper editorial column in the country, and Prime Minister Harper's inbox (pm@pm.gc.ca, or address real mail to the Office of the Prime Minister, 80 Wellington Street, Ottawa, On, K1A 0A2). Scream about this from the top of your roof, post the info on your facebook wall, and send loving vibes to your fellow cultural sector workers. And then tighten your belt, because the next four years will be lean times indeed.