UCA Ambassador!!!

I had Ambassador training today and it was pretty fun! I can see right now that my schedule is going to get hectic very quickly. All Ambassadors have to help with Bear Facts Day (college day) and do 5 additional tours every semester. I’m really excited to show prospective students how great UCA is and just how they belong here.

RSO Fair!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ok, so RSO stands for Registered Student Organization and we had a fair today!!! It was very nice outside for once thank God, because I had to be out there. It was good though to see the freshmen trying to be active and having fun. I was at NABMU’s table, that’s the National Association of Black Men United. I love it when girls would ask me if they could be a part of it or if this was a men’s organization. I just smile and begin my brief speech of how women should want to help our black men graduate. I also explain that behind every man is a good woman and that this does not necessarily mean in a relationship. I mean I stand behind most of the men in the organization and they’re like brothers to me.

First Day Back...and I got sick.

 Damn. My room was too cold and then I was out all day in the heat helping the freshmen move-in. I drank some water but I guess it wasn’t enough and I didn’t eat much.

MOVE-IN DAY!!

Tomorrow is Move-In Day at UCA. I’m going to show the freshmen what it means to have school-spirit. ^_^

With my bear claws and claw scratch, Hehe :) Those freshmen won’t know what hit them!

Pic taken with the Nikon D40…the camera I want…picture not taken by me.  I think the pic is very fitting for today, since it’s my birthday and I’m a leo, haha

Dance! Dance!

Ok so I’ve got the rest of this week left at home before I go to school and I’m super excited! The one reason I’m excited right at this moment is because I plan on taking ballet classes. I’ve figured out what studio I’m going to, the rates, and cost for a cab until I get my car. I can’t wait for the school year!

Calm before the Storm

I’m not usually a cryptic person, but my life is smooth sailing right now and everything is just awesome and blessed. I just wonder if this is the calm before the storm and will I be ready when/if it comes.

The road to success is not straight. There is a curve called failure, a loop called confusion, speed bumps called friends, red lights called enemies, and caution lights called family. You will have flats called jobs. But if you have a spare called determination, an engine called perseverance, insurance called faith, and a driver called Jesus, you will make it to a place called success.

I'm learning to braid my hair...it's not an easy process but I'll master it one of these days.

Sometimes, you know it was only by God's grace...

When so many blessing come your way and life is really good to you, sometimes we forget to say thanks to the one who made it possible. I’ve already given him my thanks, but let me share why I feel so blessed.
1.) I’m alive and well. I had a car accident two weeks ago and came out without a scratch.
2.) He allowed me to have two jobs this summer and pass my summer chemistry class (science class and I don’t get along).
3.) I got a $5,000 scholarship.
4.) Someone is buying my Canon SX10 from me so now I can get my Nikon D40.
5.) I needed a dentist appointment before I go back to school. The receptionist said they could fit me in my last day in town.
What has God done for you lately?

My Besties

Art Love

Single vs Relationship

It’s been a while since I’ve been in a relationship. Sometimes, I miss those little moments that one has with that certain someone. I think most of that comes into play when I see or hear my friends talk about their somebody.
I’ve only been in one serious relationship and it was within this past year. Before, however, all of my friends would come to me for advice (and they still do). But I had no experience with anything. I was the single friend, who loves being single. I didn’t have any broken hearts. I didn’t have drama. Sex? WTF? Did I think of boys? Sure, if they were my friend or classmate.
Now? I’m mostly still a single kind of girl. I don’t have to be in a relationship all the time. In fact I prefer not to. That’s what causes drama. But like I said, I do kinda miss having someone to cuddle with, just hang, go out, or talk on the phone with. Ha, my friends say it’s because I don’t have fun. Like, I’m shy when it comes to guys. I should loosen up a little bit and chill. We’ll see how that works.

When helping your best friend get over a break up

• Do not tell her that there are plenty of fish in the sea. 

She’ll be a smartass, she’ll say, “BUT I DON’T WANT A FISH. I WANT HIM. I WANT HIM BACK. WAHHHHHH.” Then you’re a socially awkward penguin.

• Do not tell her that he was stupid for leaving her.

She’ll be a smartass, she’ll say, “I WAS STUPID FOR LOVING HIM. WAHHHH.” Then you’re again, socially awkward penguin.

• Do not tell her that he didn’t deserve her, and that she was too good.

She’ll be a smartass, she’ll say, “IF I’M SO GOOD, WHY DID HE BREAK UP WITH ME. WAAAAAAH.” Then you’re socially awkward penguin.

What you do is, you say, “BITCH. GET THE FUCK UP. WE’RE GOING TO WAL-MART. WE ARE BUYING A GALLON OF ICE CREAM FOR YOUR MOPEY ASS, AND YOU’RE GOING TO CRY. ALL FUCKING NIGHT. YOU WILL WAKE UP TOMORROW MORNING. WE ARE BURNING ALL HIS SHIT. ALL OF IT. WE’LL GO SHOPPING, AND BE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BITCHES ON THE PLANET.”
She can’t be a smartass, and you are no longer caught in a socially awkward situation. You are not a penguin, you are practically jesus.

It's been awhile...

since I’ve drawn anything. Today, I don’t have to work and I didn’t have an scheduled demos so I stayed at home with my nieces and just chilled. Trying to be productive I decided to whip out my Wacom Bamboo Pen and start drawing in ArtRage. I’ve got one of those You Can Draw books that has a million things in it. So here’s what I did. I need to practice some more but you like?

Change and Choice...

I’m one of those people who puts their all into what they do. My main problem? Trying to figure out that that ‘thing’ is. In an era where I’m not limited on the possibilities available, I find it hard to pick just one or two things to be faithful to. I know they say that it’s normal for people to change their minds, especially in college where people changed majors like they change clothes for a party. When I started college, I went in as a Spanish major. By the end of my first semester, I was a Speech/Language Pathology major. Before spring break, I was a Linguistics major. Now, I’m considering throwing photojournalism or documentary photography in the mix.
I love languages, how they are related to each other and how some are endangered. The cultural aspects of languages and the fact that people live and view life in many different ways is fascinating to me. I also love my camera and being able to capture the moment, create art, being challenged to learn this craft better, to share someone’s story through photography.
I always tell people that change is good. It keeps you on your toes. It makes to learn and deal with life. However, I think I’ve learn to adapt and change so much that I don’t know what’s important anymore. I don’t know what’s right for me.

Natural? Me?

Last summer I got my styled in straw curls for the first time. I fell in love with the style! It was cute, enhanced my facial structure, was easy to maintain, and lasted for up to 2 weeks. Later in the school year, I decided to attempt doing my own straw curls. I knew a girl who had the rollers and a blow dryer. She did my hair for me once and did an awesome  job. I figured I could as well. My curls didn't come out as tightly coiled as the first two times, but it still looked awesome.

I thought to myself, "Girl, if you could get this all the time, how cool would that be?" And by all the time, I meant permanently. So this week, I finally started going some research on how to go about doing just that. Now, like most African-American women, I chemically straighten my hair and have since way back when :) From all the blogs, reviews, and forums I read, and will my kind of hair, I would only be able to continue to use the rollers and dryer to obtain my dream style.

OR

I could go natural and allow my natural curls to take control.There are products that will help keep the moisturized and manageable. My worry is:

1.) That I'd have to cut all my hair off. Maybe not immediately. I could wait until an inch or two or three of natural hair grew out by keeping braids in my head.

2.) Will my natural hair curl the way I want it to? There all about 4 main different kinds of natural hair types and I'm not quite sure which on I am yet and am worried that when it comes down to it, my hair won't curl like I wish.

Here is a picture of a lady who has embraced her natural curls. These are the type of natural curls I want. View her story HERE

 

What Every Photographer Has To Look Forward To.....

Letter to George

Dear Mr. Johnston,
Thank you for your response attempting to assist me in my Nikon purchase. However, I find your recommendation preposterous and extremely strange coming from a so-called expert. First of all, the D700 at $2,450 is far beyond my budget, which I told you is $400, and way too much overkill for a photographer just setting out, and your suggestion that I purchase 35mm ƒ/2 and 85mm ƒ/1.8 lenses is strange. Those lenses don't even zoom? All of my friends use zoom lenses and that is all my local store carries. I am somewhat mystified by your note.

Sincerely,
George

-Dear George,
Yes, you are absolutely right, and I apologize. Like many aficionados I am excessively affected by my own preferences and habits, and it leads me to give buying advice that is indeed idiosyncratic. The suggestion that you jump in from the get-go with an investment of $3,195 is indeed preposterous (good word).
I would like to make amends by suggesting an objectively more characteristic 25-step course of action for you. My experience in this field has demonstrated many times that this sequence is broadly very typical, and I think you will find that these new recommendations far more objectively trace the course of most serious photographers' investments in their gear.
I apologize again—in what follows, I have used some current model names and numbers as representative of product types, even though what I'm describing is usually a 3–5 year process and actual model numbers and prices will naturally change over than interval.
And I say the process as outlined contains 25 steps; but you might well find there will be more.
Step 1. Purchase a "digicam" or digital point-and-shoot, chiefly because that's what most human beings do first when it occurs to them that they want a camera. This will be preceded by approximately four months of troublesome and increasingly frustrating product research and shopping, during which time you will be learning how to shop but not how photograph. Also during that time, you will be limited to taking pictures with your iPhone. It gradually dawns on you that no one can give you perfectly satisfactory advice about buying a point-and-shoot, for the simple reason that there are roughly 13,796 of them on the market (note: estimate only) with dozens dropping off the cliff into discontinuation and dozens more being introduced all the time, making the search for "the best one" a shifting target even if you could tell them apart. Eventually, lose patience and buy what the local local store counterman recommends, even though in the backmost reaches of your almost-subconscious you suspect that his high level of confidence might be motivated by the fact that he gets a spiff for selling that model because it has a higher profit margin than most of the others, and his boss is pushing him to push it. With tax, it only comes in $30 over your absolute top budget number of $400. Belatedly, you will remember to check B&H Photo, which will be selling the same model, only with an extra card, for $236.
Step 2. Be perfectly happy with your new purchase...for about 2 1/2 months. After that, slowly discover its infuriating shutter lag, the alarming slowness of its lens at full telephoto, its wretched high-ISO performance, and its general frailty and operational quirkiness. Nevertheless, use said digicam for another 1.8 years as you doggedly and determinedly "get your money's worth out of it," even though you pretty much hate it the whole time. Still, it's always with you, you do a lot of snapping, photography's fun.
Step 3. After the digicam fails utterly on an expensive vacation—just when you most needed it to work—buy a Canon G10 premium fixed-lens camera. ($420.)
Step 4. Three weeks later, G11 comes out. Buy that ($470), sell G10 at $150 loss.
Step 5. Realize that G10 actually has more megapixels than the G11; sell G11 ($120 loss), buy another G10.
Step 6. Read about small vs. large sensors on the internet, realize you are not really very happy with the premium point-and-shoot category anyway, because it's still mostly a point-and-shoot and you've just kind of had it with point-and-shoots. Sell second G10 for a $175 loss this time and graduate to an $800 entry-level DSLR, purchased with a "kit zoom." Again, that little voice that is almost buried in your subconscious mentions to you fleetingly that the kit zoom is where the company is saving money on the package price, despite the fact that the lens is what determines the essential look of the pictures. The pictures look much better than the pictures from your now-dead p/s, though, and you're sure—almost—that they look better than the pictures from the G10/11, most of the time—so how bad could it be?
Step 7. Some months later, following the happy congruence of a number of occurrences, namely, 1) an unexpected cash windfall, 2) your wife's uncle's ridicule of your "cheap" camera at a family gathering, 3) your own rather acute embarrassment at having to bring your camera to a rare paying job, during which you were pretty sure you saw your client looking askance at it; 4) dozens more hours spent shopping, and 5) your reading of some 340,000 words on the internet (approximately 1/12th of which were at all useful)—purchase a D90. Sell the entry-level DSLR for 2/5ths of what you paid for it, but keep the lens for the D90. (By the way, you still have your digicam. It doesn't work, can't be fixed economically, and is worth next to nothing on Ebay anyway, but for some strange reason—or, rather, just over 400 strange reasons—you cannot actually bring yourself to physically toss it in the wastebasket. It sits in the closet now. Note: the closet of which I speak is a seldom-mentioned but deeply significant vector very near the beating heart of photographic equipment shopping.
Step 8. Almost immediately after buying the D90, begin dreaming of a D300s.
Step 9. Kit lens from entry-level DSLR seems a little forlorn on the D90, and you're wondering if it's "getting the most out of the sensor." Succumb to "metaphysical doubt" and insecurity, and purchase a magnificent do-everything, fast, premium normal zoom lens. $630.
Step 10. Because the camera is so awkward to carry with your new zoom—which you love, by the way—you inadvertently drop it. Just once. It survives, but the LCD is cracked, and you're not quite 100% certain, but you think some of the electronic menu settings have gone a bit wonky. These imperfections eat at you, just a tiny bit, every time you use the camera.
Step 11. Purchase camera insurance.
Step 12. Due a perception that no serious photographer has just one serious lens, purchase a second lens to "cover all the focal lengths" and "complement" your main lens—another magnificent do-everything, fast, premium zoom lens, but telephoto. $520.
Step 13. Add a macro; your zoom doesn't seem to do close-ups very well. Also $520.
Step 14. Spend several dozen hours proving to yourself by reading and rereading lens tests until you're bleary-eyed that your macro lens is as close to technically perfect as it is possible for a lens to be. It's super sharp! Right out to the corners! The tiny voice that won't shut up mentions to you that your macro pictures still kind of suck, and that there are approximately a Graham's number of macro pictures on the internet already, almost all of which look...well, more or less the same.
Step 15. Because you're not quite satisfied, in a way you can't quite put your finger on, with the output of the tele zoom—it just doesn't quite seem to satisfy you like the images from your main zoom does—you're not quite sure what it is—you again dive into an extended bout of internet research and shopping, and resurface from a long immersion only with the purchase a truly magnificent, professional 80–200mm, constant-aperture zoom. $1080. You give the old tele zoom to your wife's uncle's teenage son, who immediately begins doing fantastic work with it after having suddenly come to the stunning realization that you exist.
Step 16. Troublingly, you find yourself increasingly leaving the camera bag at home, as it now weighs approximately the same, and is roughly the same size, as a concrete block.
Step 17. Wife buys you D300s for birthday! Yay! Best birthday present ever! It's love, pure love—for the wife, not the camera. Sort of for the camera. $1530. You would sell the D90, but since it's broken.... You do mean to get it fixed. It goes in the closet.
Step 18. F**king blo*dy tiny voice begins just the faintest, most distant murmur about full frame.
Step 19. Decide you are not a macro type of photographer. In weak, trifling attempt to lighten bag, macro lens joins old entry-level kit zoom and broken point-and-shoot in closet. Hey, you can always go get it if you need it.
Step 20. Now that you have your beautiful constant aperture pro tele zoom, your old "prosumer" mid-level normal zoom doesn't seem to quite match any more. So you buy a 17–55mm ƒ/2.8 AF-S lens. Which is truly awesome. You totally love it. $1,385. Old zoom goes on Ebay, fetches $230 after shipping and fees. 
Step 21. You consider yourself completely set where equipment is concerned. Completely set. For all time. You will never need anything more, ever. Yet, for some reason, a nagging sense of ennui sets in where your photography hobby is concerned. You realize, in a moment of exquisite clarity which also elicits just a faint touch of existential panic, that you miss shopping. You find yourself diving into shopping for things you know you're not going to buy. Desultorily, you check prices, read reviews. You find yourself getting uncharacteristically snarky on forums you frequent. Then, wandering about in this strange wilderness where shopping is no longer called for, you read some idiot on the internet who maunders on an on about how fun it is to use just one small prime lens. Completely on impulse, then, you snag a copy of the recently introduced 35mm ƒ/1.8. ($200.) Amazingly, it is kind of nice—it makes the big D300 surprisingly handy, almost nimble. Cue metaphors of bare feet, let-down hair, Julie Andrews in various meadows with her angelic sky-facing pie-hole exuding glorious plainsong. You feel...free. Sure, it's not that exciting as a lens, and it's a little too long if you're being honest with yourself, but there's no big bag to carry around. It's easy to grab on the way out the door. To your surprise, your enjoyment ramps up again, much more than just noticeably.
Step 22. Shut up, tiny voice, shut up, shut up, shut up.
Step 23. Your activity as a photographer re-ignited, you suddenly get religion: you are going to buy the best, the very best, to put the demons to rest. With a grim set to your mouth and a feeling of unstoppable determination, you purchase that D700. You hadn't even really been considering it; you weren't really that serious when you did all that research and read all those reviews. Elation vies with guilt as you write the check. $2,450. Little voice grumbles that your initial budget for this whole enterprise was $400, but you tell it to shut up: the D700 now seems almost cheap to you compared to the D3s and D3x. Wife is a tad cross and hurt: it's only been a year and four months since the D300 birthday present. Guiltily, you explain carefully that the D300 is a great backup and how you still really need it, really, how it's still the best present ever, etc. Of course, there's a slight drawback to this: having told her you still need the D300s as a backup, you can't immediately turn around and sell it to offset the cost of the D700 like you really ought to. Not right away, anyway. And of course you need a lens for it, so you keep that beautiful normal zoom. As a bright, shining symbol of your financial responsibility, you sell the macro lens on Ebay. It brings $380, of which $35 is shipping costs and Ebay fees. She goes, "It's your hobby. I just want you to have what you want." Then she adds, "Honey," giving you a look as if perhaps an incubus has invaded your body and taken over your soul.
Step 24. Slight problem with D700: only one of your lenses—the big 80–200mm, which, apart from the macro and the disused kit lens, is the one lens you own that you use the least—now works on your camera. The rest are all APS-C lenses. However, your spending has been out of control, you do have that slightly sick feeling of one who has indulged in something overmuch, your wife now looks somber and concerned whenever the subject of your hobby comes up, you've put black electrician's tape over the "D700" on your new camera in hopes that your wife's uncle won't notice the switch and tease you about it, and you're ever so slightly worried about...well, not your sanity, exactly—it's not that bad—let's just say, your previous reputation for level-headed practicality. So, in a continuation of the "one lens" notion combined with a certain feeling of penitence, you go on Ebay and purchase a very modest used 35mm ƒ/2 AF-Nikkor. $250.
Step 25. Although you're mostly happy with the 35mm, you do one simple head-and-shoulders portrait with the 80–200mm zoom and find it to be...well, preposterous (sorry!). So you add a simple 85mm ƒ/1.8. $425. You mean to get a full-frame replacement for your beloved normal zoom for APS-C—someday; you're toying with the idea of another macro, but one that works on full-frame; a wide zoom might be nice; you occasionally wonder about this or that other lens...but, really, when it gets right down to it, the lenses at either end of a postulated hypothetical 35–85mm zoom do well enough for you most of the time. And they're fast. And portable. And cheap. Besides, your files, while not perfect or automatically imbued with any special magic, are now about as good as it's reasonably possible for files to be, and you've learned by this time—finally—that photography is a matter of learning to shoot, having the camera with you, learning to handle it as if it were second nature, gradually increasing the sophistication of your taste by looking at great work that appeals to you, learning to edit, and discovering your own visual passions, rather than being a matter of equipment.
Total elapsed time: 3–5 years. Over most of that time, you haven't been terribly happy with what you were shooting with. (Remember that 1.8-year stint with the point-and-shoot.)
End-point: D700 and two basic lenses. Plus, that tele zoom that's too heavy to carry around (as well as a bunch of other things) in that closet.
Total major equipment expenditures: $9,770. Of course, you mean to sell the D300s and the AF-S normal zoom—someday—but in point of fact you will probably just basically forget they exist and end up procrastinating until such time in the distant future when the camera, at least, is not worth all that much any more. In the meantime, it's your...backup. Honey.
An investment of $3,195 would have meant you'd have been all set for 3–5 years, perfectly free to concentrate on taking pictures. The expenditure would have amounted to between $1,065 and $639 per year for a very rewarding and renewable hobby. It would have represented a savings of approximately 400 hours of shopping time, $6,575 in cash, and much needless agonizing over trivialities.
Anyway, George, I apologize again for recommending a D700 and two basic lenses even though you're just starting out. No doubt you will want to learn your own lessons, and make your own progress through a succession of gear, just as most photographers do. In my own defense, I can only say that it doesn't really matter anyway, since no one who asks me for purchasing advice ever actually follows that advice anyway! (Really.) But as you can probably deduce from the above, my initial recommendation to you possibly isn't quite as flat-out mad as it might on the surface appear.
But...$400? Please. No one gets away with that.

Cordially,
Mike

P.S. If I managed to do all the arithmetic in this post accurately, it will be a miracle.

Source: Letter To George