I was a sophomore in college. I had completed my second studio and was embarking on a three semester detour into visual studies at the south wing of Wurster Hall, starting with ED101A with Tony Dubovsky.
It feels like yesterday and a lifetime ago.
I wonder what happened to that angsty kid who chain-smoked cigarettes, listened to loud music, and slept under the studio desk because it was less of a commute than going home.
I’d like to think he’s still there, hiding under the respectable facade of a state worker, living in the burbs. Or maybe the suburban drone was the true kernel deep inside that bohemian two decades ago.
Or maybe it’s both. Life is funny that way.