It's 1983 today on 10 at 10!

I was nine years old. We lived in a home with brown shingles and a bottle-brush tree out front. We weren't normal. Was anyone?

More on the MFA

"The cold economics of the situation, moreover, are conflated with a not-so-subtle implication that poverty equals moral and artistic virtue. "How do we pay for this?" asked a freshman student, at SFAI's beginning-of-term assembly. "Learn to live on almost nothing," was the perfectly straight response, from the director himself. And it is true that practicing thrift and learning to prioritize has made my life infinitely richer and more enjoyable than if I were pulling down $100K a year in a profession that bored me.

"But that was the sum total of practical economic advice or assistance we received from the institution as a whole. Trivial, sordid subjects like marketing, career management, portfolio presentation, accounting, taxes, contracts, negotiation, and intellectual property law were never mentioned; still less did we make any of those useful, much ballyhoo'd "career contacts" that are indispensible in the 24-7 schmooze-a-thon that is the 'art world.' On the contrary--should a professor or another student happen to have a close personal friend who was opening up a new gallery, or know a dealer who'd be interested in a certain person's style of work, that person kept mighty quiet about it."

Now this does ring a bell. If I'd wanted a degree in business tactics, I'd have gotten an MBA. But one class in practical applications of the MFA, including an overview of ways to make money, would've been nice.

"Lucas says nothing more, but there is a hint of anger in her eyes. Pets are family, in her mind. You don't send them away. They're vulnerable and innocent. You help the innocent, and protect the vulnerable."

I see a little of myself in Carri Lucas.

Is an MFA worth it?

Found this huge (if a bit outdated) Salon thread about the whole subject.

Let's leave aside the relationship questions that that column raises. That controlling husband reminds me of my parents' marriage. Let's not even go there.

But the meat of the question: Is an art degree worth it? Granted, I've only read a page and a half of the huge comment thread, but (as usual) I have my own opinion on the subject.

It took me four years to get into grad school. Just about a year ago, I got my MFA in creative writing from St. Mary's.

I was damn lucky to have had a career in place when starting school. I won't speak for anyone else, but I can't see where having an MFA makes you marketable enough to justify the expense. Okay, if you're teaching at the academic level, sure. But an MFA won't make or break your success in any other profession. It may help, but it's a studio degree, not a practical one in the eyes of employers.

Will getting an MFA make you a better writer? It certainly helped my writing. I'm a more self-aware writer, more careful and self-critical. That's good for the most part ... occasionally I feel constrained by my own higher standards, but it serves the writing well.

The MFA certainly made me a better critic. I look at everything for craft. I can pick out the craft at work, and apply it to my own writing. Definitely a plus of the degree.

Does an MFA offer you a writing community? Not too sure about this. St. Mary's did a great job of pulling together an awesomely diverse group -- a wide range of ages, backgrounds, and styles. We were all amicable. But was it a community? Not really. We were a group of people who came together to talk about writing. I met a few good friends through the program, but that's not the same as a writing community. I don't blame St. Mary's, though -- these things are organic, can't be forced.

Many of my professors bent over backwards to help us. They were generous with their time and talents. You can't have a 100 percent winning team, but I met some real talents through the program. What they taught me will show in my writing for years to come.

Then there's the lit crit, the workshopping, the politicking, the sad state of affairs when it comes to financial aid. Enough said.

As I was telling Sophie the other day, you wade through 85 percent of Whatever to get to the good stuff. A year out of school, I'm trying to focus on that.

"The American Wedding, Assessed"

Adam just sent me this. Interesting read, even if the author doesn't entirely address the question of super-sized weddings in the context of her own relationship -- she soft-soaps the ending. Still, I get the point. Even the most cynical of couples can succumb to the gauzy-edged power that is the wedding industry.

Or can they?

To quote Chuck Palahniuk, who was an excellent read at UC Berkeley the other night: I'm not a nihilist. I'm a romantic. I believe strongly in what a wedding represents, the significance, the commitment. I also know my parents had a huge-ass wedding. And look where that ended up.

Is it that weddings are precursors to marriage in the sense that they're bigger than the relationships themselves? That they involve the whims and wills of the families, the wedding planners, the florists?

Maybe I'm just beating my own dead horse. I'm pretty sure I am.

I look inside myself to see if there's any desire to be that bride. You know, that one, the one in the unexpectedly beautiful dress, in front of the mirror, blushing and preening. That one feeding cake to her beloved.

I'm not seeing any indication that she's there.

Wow

"They don't care about us. We're disposable. We're numbers on a page and they'd rather forget we exist so they don't have to be reminded about the families and lives they ruined while they're sipping their cocktails at another fund raiser dinner. If they were really concerned about supporting the troops, they'd bring them home so their families wouldn't have to cry at a graveside and explain to their children why mommy or daddy isn't coming home."

Simply: wow.

I love being on the right track with a client. The first assignment is always the nervous one -- is this what they wanted? That's why I always try to run something by them early on, just to make sure. And when they like it, I'm happy!