So today, it turns out, was my first day of art history. The entire 2nd year painting class takes it together, but it’s a much smaller group than I’d realized. They had also had the same professor first semester, so the class is carrying over and I’m jumping in in the middle. Since it’s not a new class to him, he didn’t introduce himself–so I don’t know what his name is, yet. He started off the class by talking about the papers that I assume they’d turned in at the end of the previous semesters. Apparently they aren’t tested, but they write one short paper at the end of term. I can handle that. He also went over the basic plan for the upcoming semester. The plan for the class seemed pretty basic. I’ve had plenty of more serious art history at KCAI, and the philosophy and essays he plans to cover have been discussed at length in my studio and philosophy classes. I definitely feel ahead of the game, here. The discussion is going to be focused around opposing ideas of “catagory” and “experience.” I feel like these are different words for something I’ve already learned, but I haven’t figure out just what.
I spent my time in studio knitting again. I want to wait til I have a real space to get any projects going, and the teachers expected me to take this week to find supplies and get settled in anyways. I have been orienting myself within the school and the community, and I did find most of the supplies I need. I met the one other American, another painted enrolled (not on exchange) in Brighton. He shares a studio space with Fran.
I stopped by the grocery store on my way back. It feels like I am constantly grocery shopping. Since when did I need so much food? After my last crock pot pork went so well, I decided to go a little bigger this time. I’m making a full pork loin roast with stuffing tomorrow, which I plan to eat for dinner (and occasionally lunch) for the rest of the week. There’s a butcher at the bottom of my street, so I decided to get the meat from them instead of the supermarket. I had never been to a proper butcher before. They were very nice. It was really weird to watch them get half a pig out of the fridge and hack/saw off the bit I wanted. They were very excited about my accent, but initially mistook me for Canadian. Eh? They sent me home with a bonus: a couple of their classic house-sausages, a very traditional English version. Those will be a nice break from my roast leftovers, later this week.
I got home with all my groceries and started to prepare my pork roast. The beautiful thing about crock pots is that you can just do the whole thing the night before, stick it in the fridge, and then start it the next morning. There are so many magical things about crock pots. They save so much time, and the time you do put into it is on your terms. And at the end of the day, when you’re too burnt out to cook, your dinner is all ready for you. I’m a big fan.
So I start getting it all ready, I have all the stuffing and extra veggies in, and then I realize: I have no idea how to trim meat. Moreover, it won’t fit in the pot, so I’m going to have to hack off some of these bones. And the half-inch thick pigskin. I knoooow that crackling is delicious, but my skills aren’t at that level yet, so it’s best to do away with completely. I don’t really know where to start, so I find a big knife and essentially massacre this thing. There was a point where I was just standing there, laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. Eventually, it all made it in the pot. I assume it will taste the same… and I’m pretty excited to find out.
I’ll let you know how it goes tomorrow. Cheers!