Jen

It's all beginning. Feels like it's ending.

Monday yet again.

This weekend was really pretty good EXCEPT for that stupid gallery that I hung my work in. Here is the story.

It was a hot and humid Saturday evening . . . I should probably give a slight bit of background.

Last Saturday, during a very weak moment, I was approached by Chris to hang up some work while he would be spinning at this café. I usually don’t like putting up work in cafes, only because I can’t keep my eye on it. Someone could take it, spill something on it, whateves. But because I had a stomach ache and I really wanted to be left alone for a couple of minutes, I agreed to it. He said there would be room for 10 pieces.

On Friday at work, I mat 8 pieces that are in the series (so far) about gentrification of the projects near UIC. Not exactly 10 pieces, but I wanted whatever I hung up to be a body of work, not just random images. Anyway, matting in not a very quick process. It took a couple of hours to get it done.

Back to the hot and humid Saturday night. Not getting into the fact that I was slightly annoyed that I had to help Chris pack and unload all his DJ gear, I had to sit in the shittiest North Avenue traffic ever. By time I bring my work inside, I’m slight angered. Ok, extremely annoyed and slightly pissed off.

I meet David, who asks me to look at my work while he’s eating. This bothers me for the same reasons I mentioned above. No food around the work, plain and simple. I say this, and he looks annoyed, so I pull out a couple pieces for him to look at. Then he tells me that because I don’t have frames he can’t show them, unless I can get frames in an hour. Really, at that point, I should have just packed up my shit, but instead, I actually go and look for frames and buy 6.

I get back to the café and I ask David how many I can hang up. He says I should frame them and we’ll ty to see how many can fit. I go to frame them and the mat is too thick. So, I have to cut off the back of the mat and tape the photos to the back of the front side of the frame. So, so shitty. I call in Nate for help, and I can tell he’s already annoyed with the situation.

Everything is framed and guess how many of my pieces are hung. 4. 4 fucking prints. Not only that, but they are between two shelves selling cell phones. Absolutely fantastic.

Yeah, I wasn’t too happy about it, but a bunch of people from work showed up, so they made it better.

AND Thank god that the party I went to Saturday night was great, because I needed to get out of that shitty mood.

Becks weekend sounded nice. I saw Greg at the party on Saturday. And woke him up on Sunday for brunch. He didn’t seem too pleased about that. We left the party at 3:30. I can only image how late Greg stayed. . .