Monday I emailed the administrator of my class that I needed time to take care of some personal business, but that I hoped to rejoin the class when they start the 3rd module in November. She was nice and sympathetic but couldn't promise anything. They have a long waiting list.
The truth is I couldn't force myself to do it any more. The late hours 3 nights a week followed by getting up early for work everyday left me jet-lagged; all I accomplished on the weekends was to catch up on sleep. And I'd developed a phobia to the projects we had to present to the class. I told myself many times to just concentrate on doing my best and to enjoy learning all this cool stuff, but to show my poor work to a large group of artists and graphic designers proved too daunting. When I couldn't make any progress on a project this weekend, I decided to face the truth and give up my seat to someone who could devote more to it.
Thinking of the terrific friends I'd made and miss, I could cry.
Step 1 to find a new equilibrium is to concentrate on the basics; eat well, sleep well, and exercise. About two years ago I had a nice start on wash-board abs; now I'm wearing pants 2 inches larger and some days those are snug. Monday I rode my bicycle again around Fiesta Island and along the San Diego River to where it joins the Pacific Ocean. Tonight I threw my Rollerblades in the car and drove to the same area.
For me, rollerblading is a meditation and best done alone. Friends have suggested it as a fun activity to do together, but I've never encouraged it. I don't want to cause someone to feel bad if my long legs get me going pretty fast, nor do I like to stop and rest: I'm built for endurance. And I don't want to embarrass myself by falling flat on my face when crossing rough pavement, due to my high center of gravity.
Tonight I explored the wide, paved path along the east side of Mission Bay. It's a beautiful, slightly winding path with the shore and beaches on one side and playgrounds and picnic areas on the other. Lots of other folks were out enjoying the evening as well.
As I went along I loved watching how they interacted with each other. One older gentleman put his arm protectively around his wife as I passed. A teenage boy watched the activity on the sidewalk as two younger girls got a drink from the fountain behind him. He seemed all relaxed and at ease but those 2 girls were totally protected: what a good older brother.
And I love the racial diversity that makes it necessary to print ballots in 129 different languages in San Diego. I saw Latin, Asian, Indian, African-American, white, and combinations I couldn't identify; all beautiful.
The only person I had a problem with was a middle-aged white guy, also on Rollerblades; obviously out trying to re-claim his lost youth from some mid-life crises. Give it up dude, I thought. But then I thought again and realized I'm probably the same age, if not older.
Skate on, my brother!
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Friday, July 11, 2008
Where is an Island not an Island ?
. . . in San Diego.
When I first moved to San Diego in 2001 I quickly learned that Coronado Island, on which sits the lovely town of Coronado and is home to the Hotel Del Coronado, is not really an island but is connected to the mainland by a thin, lovely ribbon of sand called the Silver Strand. Likewise Harbor Island and Shelter Island are man made peninsulas almost surrounded by water with just enough land for a multi-lane road to connect them to the mainland. Despite knowing this, whenever someone mentioned Fiesta Island in Mission Bay I always pictured an actual island requiring a boat to access. Silly me.
Driving home from work today, with the top down and enjoying the nice afternoon, I felt energetic enough for something active and fun, but what to do? I finally decided to get out on my bicycle, which I haven't done for quite a long time. I used to do lots of cycling and I have all the stuff; helmet, gloves, padded shorts, shoes, and a really nice Trek road bike that I haven't been on much since last summer.
The challenge about where I live is that any bicycle ride from home must either go east—which is a horrible ride through lots of traffic and not scenic neighborhoods—or down: I'm surrounded by steep descents. Going out is fun, but the return trip is a challenge. They'd be hard enough starting fresh but are just mean after a long ride when you’re tired; although the scenery is nice (kind of like a couple of ex-boyfriends; gorgeous, but requiring lots of effort).
I decided to follow the main bike route through Mission Hills down into Mission Valley and resign myself to walking part way back. At the bottom of Presidio Hill I turned left towards Point Loma, to follow some roads I'd explored earlier this year in the car going towards Mission Bay Park, to connect up to some bike paths I found last summer. I turned right on Pacific Coast Highway, which had a nice designated bike path on it. Approaching the bridge over the San Diego River I noticed signs pointing to a bike path going towards Ocean Beach: note to self for further exploration another day. At the entrance to the park I wanted to go left to get to a bike path I knew, but instead of turning across a whole lot of traffic I followed a couple of other cyclist straight across, intending to double back.
Once out of traffic, however, I saw signs and a short, narrow road with water on each side going towards—Fiesta Island. Who knew! My nose led me to a 1-lane, one-way road going around an approximately 2-square mile “island” dedicated to summer fun: on the right sandy parking/boat-access/beach sloped directly to the water; on the left, between breaks in a high, man made dune, a wide, flat area that looked like a big beach volleyball court. Along one side a large RV park was full of folks starting their weekend; out in the water die-hards were playing on their wave runners in the fading light. So this is Fiesta Island. I'm so coming back here.
Coming off the Island, turning right, still feeling good, still some energy in the legs, still following my nose, I turned right again onto a bike path that paralleled a newly landscaped, paved walk along the bay: note to self, come back with the Rollerblades. I followed this path almost to Sea World, then crossed over to a path I'm familiar with and headed back towards home.
The only way to get from Old Town to Mission Hills is up. And even though the hill probably wouldn't raise the pulse of Lance Armstrong, I got off the bike and walked. But it's a lovely walk by nice homes with a terrific view halfway up across the 5 to Point Loma, Mission Bay, and on to the ocean. When I got home I had to pee like a race horse.
What a great ride! I had such a nice time. I went 12 miles. Along the way I saw some great scenery, found more places to explore, saw a Hunk, got a wave and a big smile from a Pretty Girl, saw Spiderman, and made it back home feeling like I could have gone a couple more miles.
I'm kicking myself for not taking my small camera with me. I'm sorry I have no pictures to share. Anyone know of a good, small video camera that can be strapped to a helmet?
When I first moved to San Diego in 2001 I quickly learned that Coronado Island, on which sits the lovely town of Coronado and is home to the Hotel Del Coronado, is not really an island but is connected to the mainland by a thin, lovely ribbon of sand called the Silver Strand. Likewise Harbor Island and Shelter Island are man made peninsulas almost surrounded by water with just enough land for a multi-lane road to connect them to the mainland. Despite knowing this, whenever someone mentioned Fiesta Island in Mission Bay I always pictured an actual island requiring a boat to access. Silly me.
Driving home from work today, with the top down and enjoying the nice afternoon, I felt energetic enough for something active and fun, but what to do? I finally decided to get out on my bicycle, which I haven't done for quite a long time. I used to do lots of cycling and I have all the stuff; helmet, gloves, padded shorts, shoes, and a really nice Trek road bike that I haven't been on much since last summer.
The challenge about where I live is that any bicycle ride from home must either go east—which is a horrible ride through lots of traffic and not scenic neighborhoods—or down: I'm surrounded by steep descents. Going out is fun, but the return trip is a challenge. They'd be hard enough starting fresh but are just mean after a long ride when you’re tired; although the scenery is nice (kind of like a couple of ex-boyfriends; gorgeous, but requiring lots of effort).
I decided to follow the main bike route through Mission Hills down into Mission Valley and resign myself to walking part way back. At the bottom of Presidio Hill I turned left towards Point Loma, to follow some roads I'd explored earlier this year in the car going towards Mission Bay Park, to connect up to some bike paths I found last summer. I turned right on Pacific Coast Highway, which had a nice designated bike path on it. Approaching the bridge over the San Diego River I noticed signs pointing to a bike path going towards Ocean Beach: note to self for further exploration another day. At the entrance to the park I wanted to go left to get to a bike path I knew, but instead of turning across a whole lot of traffic I followed a couple of other cyclist straight across, intending to double back.
Once out of traffic, however, I saw signs and a short, narrow road with water on each side going towards—Fiesta Island. Who knew! My nose led me to a 1-lane, one-way road going around an approximately 2-square mile “island” dedicated to summer fun: on the right sandy parking/boat-access/beach sloped directly to the water; on the left, between breaks in a high, man made dune, a wide, flat area that looked like a big beach volleyball court. Along one side a large RV park was full of folks starting their weekend; out in the water die-hards were playing on their wave runners in the fading light. So this is Fiesta Island. I'm so coming back here.
Coming off the Island, turning right, still feeling good, still some energy in the legs, still following my nose, I turned right again onto a bike path that paralleled a newly landscaped, paved walk along the bay: note to self, come back with the Rollerblades. I followed this path almost to Sea World, then crossed over to a path I'm familiar with and headed back towards home.
The only way to get from Old Town to Mission Hills is up. And even though the hill probably wouldn't raise the pulse of Lance Armstrong, I got off the bike and walked. But it's a lovely walk by nice homes with a terrific view halfway up across the 5 to Point Loma, Mission Bay, and on to the ocean. When I got home I had to pee like a race horse.
What a great ride! I had such a nice time. I went 12 miles. Along the way I saw some great scenery, found more places to explore, saw a Hunk, got a wave and a big smile from a Pretty Girl, saw Spiderman, and made it back home feeling like I could have gone a couple more miles.
I'm kicking myself for not taking my small camera with me. I'm sorry I have no pictures to share. Anyone know of a good, small video camera that can be strapped to a helmet?
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Swift 3-D
In the Interactive
Media Class I'm taking we've started to learn a 3-D imaging program and we created this easy animation of objects flying around each other. It's a long way from Pixar, but it's very fun to do.
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