CADMIUMROUND TWO Issue: February 2012

Free Volume 3 Number 3

THE TRUTH ABOUT BEING AN ART STUDENT

GET TO KNOW WHO THEY ARE AND WHAT THEY DO

grOCAD

AN ART STUDENT

MEET

THE QUALMS OF

OCADU

CADMIUMEDITOR: Christina WhiteIn-House Writer: Izaak Sacrebleu

WRITERS:

ARTISTS & DESIGNERS:

COVER:

SEND YOUR SUBMISSIONS TO:publication@ocadsu.org

CONTACT US:CADMIUM c/o OCAD Student Union100 McCaul StreetToronto, ONM5T 1W1

publication@ocadsu.org

Front: Alana MuleBack: Michael Ferretti

Stefaine ChowSean CollinsAlanna MuleClaire ScherzingerMegan MareIbrahim AbusittaFahdad AtkinBrendan PetersCale WeirChi Moscou-JacksonAlyssa StoddardNicole CosackVeronica AbrenicaAdam ChapmanAlanna MuleAlexei GolobSteven OliveiraTroy PynnJulie AgroJohn SmegalKate HoggCarolina GaldamezEmily TaylorKaren RobertsHeather Fraser

Cassi Wong-LeeIzaak SacrebleuClaire ScherzingerMatias BernasconiJessica DuncanRose MaMegan MareAnna KolesnikovaLisa RobbinsWilliam S. MenesesBrooke Wayne

In-House Designers:Cory SwitzmanEric Fern CarriereLina El-ShamyJennifer De Vera

FIX UPS....

Last issue’s cover was created by: Lina El-Shamy.

Missing Conclusion Summary in : The Times Are A Changing“The OCAD-U logo is a change.” I said, we gained some ability to be innovative with it, and we also lost some of the history with it. This is probably why the school delayed so long to change it. Its not a progression from the old logo, it’s an entirely new thing for the students and for the university. In my personal opinion though, even if its a logo. Good Art causes a reaction of love or hate. Which is fitting for an art school and design school. - Matias Bernasconi

LETTER FROM THE EDITOR

he third issue. This issue is called ROUND TWO. Why? Because just like in a fight the second round is where the underdog can redeem their self. It’s about

new beginnings and growth. Speaking of growth my Cadmium family has grown. We now have regular contributors and designers aiding in this newspaper making it truly a newspaper for the people by the people. - Christina White

T

CONTENTSCADMIUM | September 2011

FEATURES

OPINIONS

EXTRAS

OCADU MEET grOCADOCADUians meet grOCAD. Lean who they are and what they do.

PoemsA selection of poems from various artists.

Student ElectionsThe Student Union dish out the facts about the upcoming elections.

Movies are About Love

Student Art WorkWorks from current OCAD U Students from various programs.

GamesThings for you to do during class.. I mean at home.

Detriments of a Raw Food DietHow to live clean and eat healthy.

The Qualms of an Art StudentThe daily problems all art students go through.

MASH

Student Work

Brendan Peters

Stephanie Chow

Ibrahim Abusitta

Student Work

Sean Collins

Exhaustion describes my thoughts Hesitation describes my Anticipation. My eyes reveal it’s utter frustration... Though time is inevitably in constant occurrence.. I’m so tired of its lack of reassurance.. There is never a guarantee in the hands of time Only hope lies in the aloof fabric, in hopes i keep what once was mine. I need Stability..A type of support that could easily grant me some security. though none exists. I find my self still in search of this type of wish. The hands of time continue to pass through minutes..hours..seconds.. as though it doesn’t phase a soul ..Little does it know.. the passing of time has altered my life 10 fold. changing faces, different places..memories & my dreams... Has been Times most favorable themes.. All of which granted me smiles.. & with its smiles came its tears.. My value of an hour has somewhat changed throughout the years.. Of course its necessary.. To change, to grow... To live .. To learn. It’s just easier to hold faith in a past that might return. no one said it would be easy, they just never told me it could be hard.. Instead I find time unkind, with little to no regard. & Here I stand..As time itself, passes though each second.. & this I reckon..What yet awaits along these hands of time.. What yet will be taken from, or be granted mine. What yet will alter my life so.. in pursuit to let me grow.. What yet will occur to deem these eyes a young woman with an old soul....

Megan Mare

//.Hands of time. //( poem on Time and Growth )

It is impossible to disguise love as it is to deny love.Yet it is inevitable. None the less. Unstoppable to destroy it, once you’ve been blessed to even have found ‘true love.’So indescribable, sometimes even unrecognizable..but once you’ve found forever in another’s eyes...It is nothing short but incredible.To be able to put yourself in the palms of another’s careand to see your true self in the reflection of your lovers stare...Is what any fairy tale ever really consisted of.To truly Feel complete and in peace in another’s arms.Free from all danger and harm...This delicate force of emotion is as strong as the walls we build to protect it.Until the fateful day god sends us an angel who is born to break it.Although love is commonly misused, it does not destroy its purpose.To bring strength, hope and tranquility to your true loves life,and for better or for worse, to support each other when faced with strife. Those who cherish and protect this emotion will reap its true blessings…Trust that love is as strong as the Rose that grew from concrete, Beating the odds of those who wish defeat.Thus proving that Love cannot be compared or truly defined..For it is Within one’s own heart that unique love is confined.

Megan Mare

//.True Loves Contents. //( poem on Love )

Fahdad Atkin

Your first real love in life starts right at birth with the single touch, smell or thought of your mother. Then your father comes into that ever-growing circle of love. As you age that circle becomes bigger. The warmth you feel is fuel to your growth as a person. They say you can’t truly love someone until you can love yourself, but that is just thought of someone who hasn’t possibly experienced the truth of love. February being known for the holiday Valentines Day has made me classify it as a month of love. We cannot grow without love. Not just love from a relationship but love from friends or family. Love can define who a person will become. People who come from broken homes may not trust love as much as a person who grew in a loving home. So this month help someone grow and become their full potential. Who knows what saying the three words “I love you” can do to a person.

FIRSTLOVEJessica Duncan

A raw diet is a diet of abundance, simplicity, thriving energy, awareness, liberation from cravings, and it keeps on boosting every aspect of your life! It’s made up of living plant-based foods: fruits, leafy greens, vegetables, nuts and seeds, consumed in their natural state without cooking. A sustainable raw foods diet should draw the bulk of daily calories from fruit, along with plenty of vegetables for their mineral content, and a small amount of nuts and seeds. In terms of caloric ratio, this amounts to a minimum of 80% of calories derived from carbohydrates, a maximum of 10% from protein, and a maximum of 10% from fat.

Yes, 10% protein is enough; in fact, it’s more than you need (Myriad of sources- one of the most comprehensive studies is “The China Study” by Dr. T. Colin Campbell). Excess protein increases acidity, which your body compensates by taking calcium from bones. Welcome tooth decay and osteoporosis. So whether you are mildly active, an endurance athlete or a bodybuilder, you don’t require extra protein, you just need to eat more calories to suffice your energy needs.

Consuming animal carcasses alone kills us and kills the planet. Just to be clear, it’s not the fat and cholesterol that cause cancer-it’s the animal protein. Fat and cholesterol cause heart disease; the animal protein causes cancer. Farming animals is wrecking our planet by wasting and polluting water, air, land, and crops; it contributes to global warming, species extinction and starvation of the poor. Translation: go vegan. Better yet, go raw. The very best quality of nutrition comes from raw fruits and vegetables. They provide the complete nutritional package in the proportion that your body can utilize optimally. Heating process destroys nutrients, leaving mostly empty calories. Cooking food and using condiments bypasses our natural safeguards that would otherwise deem food unappetizing or inedible to humans, like meats, grains, and starches. Eating cooked grains causes fermentation, whose products are: gas, alcohol and acetic acid- poisons that kill every cell they come into contact with. When you switch to raw foods, you stop abusing your body with the toxic residue from cooked food, so it can cleanse and repair. Once your taste buds are no longer irritated by the excito-toxins like salt and spices, you’ll start appreciating the natural taste of fruits and vegetables on their own. Feeling clean inside out, satisfaction and lightness after every meal, eradication of

of a

cravings, clearer mind, improved immune system, connection to your body and the planet, improved sleep, improved fitness, calmness, increased love and appreciation are only part of the awesomeness that you’ll feel. Transition gradually by including more raw foods while decreasing the amount of cooked. Have fruit or a smoothie for breakfast, and then substitute lunch with fruit and greens. Start your evening meal with fruit, followed by as much vegetable salad as you care for before your cooked dinner and eventually remove the cooked portion altogether. Initially, you might experience some detox as your body cleanses itself; the healing process is unique to each person. Remember, it’s a lifestyle change, and its results are long term. Your weight will stabilize naturally; let your body adjust and never restrict your calories ever again. Eat as much ripe fruit and vegetables as you care for! Raw foods diet is a beauty. Once you experience its effects, it will simply make sense to keep going because it feels oh so good. Learn more about health. Don’t just try it- make it work. Look after your body; it’s the only one you’ve got.

DetrimentsRaw Food

Diet!Anna Kolesnikova

The facts about eating clean and living a healthier life.

Brendan Peters

Cale Weir

Alyssa Stoddard

Chi Moscou-Jackson

Student Work

The Student Union is delighted to announce that Tre Whan is our new Student Advocate. What is a Student Advocate?The Student Advocate provides advice, advocacy and support services to all students at OCAD University. The Student Advocate Office is located at the Student Union Office. What issues can the Student Advocate help me with:1. Academic Misconduct2. Appeals3. Understanding policies and procedures4. Preparing for student hearings5. Mediation6. Representation at your hearing7. Matters relating to your student life at University, which may include bullying, discrimination, harassment, sexual harassment, victimization or vilification.8. Please note the Advocate does NOT provide any kind of legal advice. The SU has free lawyer services. The Advocate is a confidential service, that can provide you with support and guidance when dealing with difficult situations. Book an appointment: twhan@ocad.ca (PLEASE title your subject line Student Advocate)Office Hours: Monday 11am – 2pmSU Office: 51 McCaul st, Ground LevelPH: 416-977-6000 ext 341

The Student Union has a NEW position

Student Advocate

Dorothee Nicole Cosack: Artist Statement

In my work I am exploring the effect of personal history and how lives before you affect the way you live your life in the present, consciously or subconsciously. Inspired by old family photographs, I am juxtaposing old photographic elements and memories with my present thoughts and emotions. By experimenting with a combination of different mediums such as graphite, watercolours, and/or gel- transferred images, I am allowing myself to build a language, which through a large body of work, creates a narrative that will creatively explain who I am. Although this work is largely personal, the range of im-agery allows viewers to find pieces to connect with on a personal level or compel them enough to hold their attention. My work is not restricted to any specific size, the size of each piece being decided by how the subject matter feels. The work is displayed in a salon style, which to me is somewhat reminiscent of an old scrapbook or photo album.

Also, the idea of security and insecurity are heavily themed within my work, the past offering a warm place of stability and the present looming with the promise of change. Both of these notions allow me to strike a balance between self-awareness and self-discovery– one rooted in memory and one in motion. By looking to the security of the past and the idea of home I am creating a dialogue about self-identity through the re-interpretation of family relationships and memory, which can either be seen as a com-forting acknowledgement of personal growth or a desperate attempt to control time.

Soap bubbled in small ovoid forms reflecting prisms of the suns rays in their film. She let the crusted cutlery fall inches from the water to watch the ripple of suds reach up and swallow their form in effortless grace. Her neon-rubberized finger lifted to nudge a tress of shoulder length mousey brown hair back behind her ear, but her clumsy masked motor abilities only loosened more strands free.In a faint whisper, in what could have been her imagination, she heard the words, “I’m ready”.

From the sink where she stood, she could see the static suburban panorama stretched out from her family’s front lawn. The reflection simultaneously mir-rored her form poised at the kitchen sink, sleeved raveled, hands absentmind-edly sunk in the dish bath. She marveled at her furrowed brow and creased cheeks, and nursed the thought of how motherhood had deflated her. She stood, bewildered by the exhaustion in the being that she faced. A child’s screech ripped her from her haze and her knees buckled with her sudden resurfacing. The deafening pitch leeched through the walls as if she was standing in the same room as the unhallowed lungs of the tiny beast that emitted them. The tone stained and molded its hate deep within her gut and festered there, to sicken her.And again, she heard a soft muttering, “I’m ready,” it said.She felt an insufferable anger coil through her bowels, gurgling acid up her esophagus, and as she screamed spit frothed from her lips, “Why won’t you just shut the fuck up!?”She glanced up at the microwaves digital screen to acknowledge the time. Four thirty. Her husband could be expected in an hour.It was time. She disrobed her hands of their constricting rubber prisons and toweled off her forearms out of habit, bringing the towel this time to touch her fevered temple. She took care unraveling the sleeves of her blouse, savoring the mundane task, as the child howled on.“I’m coming,” she cried with as loud a voice as her pounding head would permit.

She peered once more outside to take note of the quiet exterior that stood, reassuring and unchanging, and left the kitchen.She navigated the carpeted staircase one step at a time, studying the bare walls of a seemingly unfamiliar house. Sun faded marks left evidence of the frames she’d stashed in the basement that morning. A gasp choked from her throat, as she realized she could place each one inside her mind, though she tried vehe-mently to obliterate them as they surfaced. The buoyant memories encouraged a tremor, and she steeled herself for the final few stairs.

Her quivering grasp fingered the knob to the nursery. She sucked in a sharp breath and entered the buttered yellow glow. Statuesque, at first she didn’t move, instead peered quizzically at the thrashing blob of flesh clawing the air as it wailed to deafened ear. “I’m ready,” the voice persisted, prying through her thoughts to make itself heard.

She approached the crib until her still-swelled abdomen cushioned against its grate, and towered above her screaming spawn. The baby titled its head in-quisitively momentarily appeased by the distraction of her presence. Internally, she searched for a time when this was all she wanted.With the reappearance of the unquenchable screech, she briskly retrieved the infant from its crib, and brandished it to her bosom. The baby’s wails were sup-pressed by her heaving chest as she fled the nursery for the bathroom. “I’m ready,” the voice cooed closer, aching for her arrival.With a jut of the hip she knocked the bathroom door open and settled kneeling on the floor, the child still at breast._________________________________________________________________________________________________I sat tempting her with my waters. The warm bath she’d already drawn, be-cause she was well prepared. She had a plan. I waited, eager to play my part.She came to me with her screaming child held a little too forcefully to her breast. Her skin absorbed the cries unleashed from the demon within, suc-

By Lisa Robbins

Porcelain Waters Rid Demons Within

Stephanie Chow

cessfully muffling. The mother knelt at my side, bowing her head and mut-tering foreign prayer as the child wailed on, fighting her hold with its feeble limbs.

She gripped my porcelain edge with a delicate hand and swiftly plunged her babe into my seas embrace. My waters rose, tempestuous tides parting to ac-cept the gift of life she offered. Her eyes were shut, conscious to her actions, but willingly unconscious to the visual before her. She flicked them open ever so slightly to peer at the demon through the water. Gargled bubbles danced their way to the surface to be met with mothers soothing shudders, “Shh,” she murmured, “we’re washing the demons clean.” She leaned further into my tub, the delicate linen of her blouse billowing in my warm bath, the water tainting further and further up her sleeve. Her fero-cious grip was only satisfied by the dull thud of the body against my deepest point. My waters cradled the screaming boar, rocking gently with the tide. Once my waters were still the Mother retrieved the bundle from my embrace, returning the child to her flushed bosom wearing a rosy tint from her efforts. There, cradling the lifeless body close, her face broke into a thousand differ-ent characters as tears streamed, staining her flustered cheek. She pawed at the slick watered fuzz that grew atop her child’s’ head, meticu-lously adjusting the grain of the hair so it’d lay flat against the fragile skull. I

watched the mother pet the sullen face of the baby she held, nothing but pure joy illuminated within the twinkle in her eye. The mother looked up, franticly searching for the towel she’d set aside. She found it draped over my arm, a lone corner having fallen into the lure of my bath. She swaddled her blue bundle of perfection within the plush fabric, and gazed at the calm face with pure adoration. The pad of her index finger traced the soft contours of her baby’s face. She mapped out the brow, and down the bridge of the tiny nose. Her trail slowed over the slight pucker of the lips; once a lively rose, now stained with an infec-tious tinge of grey. She sat gawking for a moment before raising the child’s lips to meet her own trembling kiss. Her spare arm fumbled it’s way into my midst once more, framing my spotless side, fingers gingerly crawling their way back into the familiar flood. The hand caressed my frame, a manicured talons tickling ever so slightly each time they’d meet the porcelain. Her hand lingered, long fingers with a solid grip, before breaking the seal that contained her sin. My waters, her evidence, fun-neled into the sewers of her soul.

Don’t get me wrong, being an art student is great, but there’s one thing that will always stir emotion in the everyday life of an OCAD art student: design students taking our elevator.Picture this: you’re late for critique, you’ve got a 4x4 painting to haul up to the 4th floor. You watch the elevator go from 4 down to 2, and then back up to 5.

AHHHHH WHY? WHO, UHH... WHAT THE FUCK?

Obviously someone was too lazy to simply walk down the spiral staircase after picking up their coffee. I actually enjoy walking down those stairs! You spot people you know on the way down, you can have a conversation with someone in the lobby while you’re descending, and it even leads right to the design elevators!

Even worse is when someone is waiting for the art elevator with you on the first floor, they’ve come out of the wood shop or something. You get in to the elevator and the person hits the 6 button. No skin off my back, I’m already on and I’m only headed to 4. But that little ‘general concern for humanity’ portion of your brain is throbbing. You know that this is going to clog up the elevators for the next 5 minutes at least, inconveniencing all your art comrades! You hiss at them a little bit under your breath, and you glare at the back of their head; maybe one day you’ll cough up the courage to actually say something to these people, but we’ve got to hold off the impending art vs. design war that is on every one’s mind.

Izaak Sacrebleu

The Qualms of an Art Student

Broken By William S. Meneses Rarely seen are the effects

of love once broken

the tasteless smell a lost intimate significance buried deep in psyche those who deny it suffer it eternal sprouts in actions

weakness Rarely seen are the effects

of love once broken

forever neglected eager to forget reopened only in loneliest of solitude sears at touch shivers down necks the nights once tangled

in flesh and satin. Rarely seen are the effects

of love once broken

blindness caused faults thick fog shifts its density obscures honest light hand shields eyes dull its significance to turn away the effects of love

once broken Keeps them rarely seen

photographs by: Raymond Saladbar

SEXYBINGOhighlights from the oh so sexy SU event

We do it all

We drink and we drawlWith all the McCauls

and snicker at suckers stuck inshopping malls

It figures

With movies and bookshow our egos got bigger

and thickened our skinto canaries within

got dirty in alleys‘cause we read Henry Miller

and famous amongst one anotherwe dream of a scene that will crown us as kings such pathetic things the melting of wings

I sing all alone and sometimes it works

and sometimes it doesn’t

I sing in a crowd and sometimes it’s

powerful(and we all look into one another without embarrassment and we could cry if only we weren’t distracted by the fact that it’s really happening it’s really happening it’s really happening it’s really happening it’s really happeningand it works)I sing to a crowd and sometimes it’s awful

But it ain’t just the singin’

It’s the stagger through alleysof Spadina slop puddles

It’s the PA displayin empty bars muddled with the memory ofawkward Ossignton galleries

and how all these subway stationshold such forceful remindersof your eyes, your backyour silly disappointmentsso that every ride on the rickety ol’ rocket brings onwaves and wavesof thoughts to save

It’s the timing

It’s a revolver loadedwith catchphrases

It’s the profound loneliness shared between the closest of friends

I question will I everreach the tailof the tale?

Banter of

- Chris Chin

Budding Bohemia

The death wish is more prevalent than ever. In Freud’s time they hadn’t yet realized the dangers of tobacco and cocaine.Though it’s obvious now, we still partake. Danger is a fad. An everlasting fad in the state we’re in.Nothing extinguishes in an instant, therefore we devalue the future.The inconvenience of growing old and dying with our past decisions is stricken from our thoughts so that we may continue in our proud existence. There is no death.There is no god.There is only time.Time to kill.The drink is what brings us together and is what tears us apart.There is no option better than that which builds and destroys us simultaneously. These are the days. The days of plenty and expectation. As we live out yet another belle epoch,we are yet another lost generation.

Izaak Sacrebleu

Death Wish

Adam Chapman

Student: What page is the reading?Prof: There’s this thing called a TABLE OF CONTENTS. Go check it out.

Prof: “So why is it that mostly women take this course? Is the ratio of guys to girls at ocad about the same”Entire class: “NO!”

Prof as she is finishing her presentation: “I didn’t mean to scare you but there is a lot of work to be done... Oh and here’s a picture of my grandson!”

Prof: So here`s one we all know, Captain Hook. So what are we assuming about him since he has a hook?Student: That he`s fabulous?Prof: God, the rorschach test this class would have!

Two guys talking as they climb the spiral staircase: “That’s totally penis envy!”

Prof: “If you’re going to make it, make it hot. No... make it SHIT hot.”

Prof: GLITTER. IS EVIL.

Prof: Oh i wouldn’t know Ive never had sex with a turtle

Prof: Latin words, we hate them, they always complicate things

4th year film prof to students on late excuses: “Excuses are like an asshole; everyone’s got one and nobody cares.”

Prof: “What the hell? You guys go from anarchy to fascism in 5 seconds.”

Prof: One time, I asked for a description of what this client wanted and he said “You know, make it cool”. So I went home and started drinking.

“OverheardatOCADU “

Nothing sucks than being unprepared for the apocalypse. But, if you’re reading this article and you’re an OCAD U student, you’re slightly ahead of the pack.

Know why? Here’s a good reason: the creativity that you’re constantly exuding in coming up with projects on the fly or throwing some found objects together like Duchamp is useful for when you’re on the run. Don’t know how to break a lock? You’ll awe everyone when you MacGyver a lockpicking tool out of random knickknacks, because you think outside the box. You’re also pretty open-minded to begin with, so you’ll try anything to see if it works. Don’t worry, most of the time, it probably will. +100 Dexterity.

If you’ve worked in the studio before/on a regular basis, give yourself an extra point. Why? Because you’ve done manual labor, and definitely not the cheap kind. Working with power tools, darkroom equipment, or even a hammer and some nails means you have basic shop knowledge and the level of energy required to use these items. (No, coffee does not count as energy). This comes in handy when you raid a hardware store or a warehouse and pick up some sweet stuff. Or well, when you try to break the door to get in first. Just keep working out or you may succumb to zombies, hooligans and the like. +60 Strength.

Now, if you’ve carried supplies/projects over long distances (especially if you’re a commuter), ding, ding! You’ve got endurance and experience in circumventing people, turnstiles and narrow doorways, especially when carrying those precious canvases or illustration boards during the quick flow of rush hour in the downtown core. Even more so if you walk outside in the hell of winter, you’re tougher than most people and you’re used to walking long distances (technically city blocks). +50 Agility.

If you’ve visited galleries all over Toronto, give yourself a pat on the back. No, the AGO doesn’t count, silly, it’s right next door. You’ve probably indirectly taught yourself some orienteering skills. Granted, you may have never used a topographic map before, but if you’ve had to decipher the TTC’s confusing system of buses, streetcars and subway stations to gallery hotspots like Dundas West and Ossington, you’re more than halfway to being a living, breathing human GPS. Or if you’ve been living in downtown Toronto for years, that also works too. +60 Navigation.

If you’ve worked with hazardous chemicals (please, don’t try to deny you’ve snuck turpentine into class, spray painted in

a non-ventilated area or inhaled too much resin before), you’ve strengthened your immune system. While some may argue that you’re probably increasing your risk of developing some kind of cancer (no lie here), the fact that you can tolerate these fumes means you’ve got an iron stomach and strong resistance. That’ll come in handy when you encounter, or rather, sniff, decaying bodies, rotting food, or just unpleasant smells because you (and your ragtag team) haven’t showered in three months. Remember, it’s the apocalypse, not a vacation. But it wouldn’t hurt to raid a pharmacy for multivitamins either. Just get lots of hand sanitizer while you’re at it, because dysentery isn’t fun. +50 Constitution.

Now, as an artist, you’ve already had practice in the art of persuasion. Whether it’s writing those coffee-laden essay papers, applying for grants, or even bullshitting artist statements on the fly, you’re flexing those charming skills of yours. Especially if you’ve attempted to sell artwork or network with other connected people, like your instructors. That’ll come in handy for when you nominate yourself to become leader of your team, or persuading others to join your crusade. You’ll be able to sway them with your astounding skills of influence. Jedi Padawans, Knights and Masters of the Force (yes, including Siths and their apprentices) also count. +80 Charisma.

Still good so far? Now, if you’ve suffered/enjoyed hours of art history and liberal studies, you can rest easy knowing that there was a payoff somewhere; you’ve brushed up on your history lessons and reading skills. Granted, most of it is probably art-centric, but you know that like a viral video, art movements and trends come and go. Guess what? Apocalypses eventually end. But libraries exist. Especially if you’ve been to one before for actual books or for help in finding scholarly articles. (By the way, OCAD U definitely has a library. It’s at 113 McCaul. Seriously.) Books teach you nifty things. Useful things that you need to know to survive. Like how to treat a third-degree burn or the correct dosage of iodine for radiation poisoning. “Why books?”, you may ask. Well, think about it. If there’s an apocalypse, there are no infrastructures. Civilization has collapsed. Obviously the internet will go at some point – no one’s there to run the national power grid and no juice to the servers means no net. Before you turn into Rage Guy and shout ‘FUUUUUUU…’, fret not. Books will become the new internet again. But then you could always say, “I read books… before they were online.” Just don’t rub it in other people’s faces too much. +60 Intelligence.

Now, don’t you feel better knowing that you’re an OCAD U student?

How to OCADU students can survive a apocalypse

APOCALYPSE 101By: Brooke Wayne

for OCAD U Students

Alanna Mule

Good day my fellow OCADians, I would like to use this opportunity to remind everyone to prepare for the impending Zombie Apocalypse. Remember not to be dicks at Walmarts. Many Walmart workers are migrant workers working in stressful conditions and the last thing they need is a frantic mob escaping the Apocalypse. In the event of the Apocalypse these people will be our shamans and guide use to isle 4 where we will find fresh garlic in case of The Vampire King (you know the one) arising. Treat them with respect. Get to Home Depot early for planks of wood if you plan to stay at home for the Apocalypse and remember to stock up on SPAM.

As often stressed, cremate your loved ones. Not only will it prevent zombification but also in the event you would have to flee your home you may take them with you and not have to leave them to the mercy of zombies. This also applies to pets, which are not immune to zombification as the Catholic Church and PETA would like you to believe. If you do not want to cremate your pets please consider taxidermy or perhaps feeding them to buzzards. Think about it as Tibetan Sky Burial for Fluffy, her body is a mere soulless husk now rejoining the circle of life.

Boycott zombie made products and services. Believe it or not this

will also counter the chances of a Communist-Nuclear-Apocalypse. This year I am on student exchange in China studying their preparations for the zombie apocalypse, which by the way I am very impressed with, I had expected no less from our future Overlords. However it concerns me greatly that at Tiananmen Square they keep the preserved body of the Honourable Chairman Mao Ze Dong.

“Even though most people in China practice cremation and our army is being trained in the way of zombie killing we fear a zombie attack from neighbouring nations, such as Pakistan, that are less prepared.” The Deputy Minister of Zombie Preventive Measures told me. “We believe that in that event our great Leader will rise again and lead the vastly uneducated zombies to reformation through labour […] We currently have our economists studying the effects of zombies workers doing the jobs even Chinese people do not want to do,” he explained hinting at a 12 year old piece of gum stuck to the underside of his desk. I don’t think I need to elaborate too much on why this is a bad idea. Allowing zombies to find work may lead to unionization and next they’ll be asking for the right to vote or to register as visible minorities and demand welfare benefits thus burdening us tax payers. Remember, to prevent the Zombie Apocalypse, always Buy Human.

How OCADians can surive a zombie apocalypse.

Preventative Measures for the Impending

Zombie ApocalypseMerril Liu

Student Work

Alexei Golob

By: Carissa Ainslie2012. The year the Mayans say will be our last. Who knows, maybe when December rolls around we might find ourselves needing to recall the survival tricks we learned in climactic apocalyptic films (anyone else considering holing up in the Eaton Centre?). If the aforementioned is true, and the world is ending, who and what would you spend your last moments with? Realistically it should be family or close friends (unless you are a prick or have no friends). But of course, as many cheesy tabloid questionnaires will surely ask, what if you could spend your last moments with anyone, dead, alive or unreachable like a celebrity or political figure.

It is a curious thing to consider what we would do if we knew the world is really going to end. We say we would probably make up with people that we have been fighting with, or tell that someone special that we loved them. But, you know, you all know that we’ll all be out there trying to fuck the last few hours away, or carry out some sick twisted fantasy like seeing if you could actually

stab someone without getting squeamish (come on, you know you want to at least try…). Or, the most likely answer, laying curled in a ball hugging your iPhone, trying to come up with the best last ever Facebook status. Although, there will be a select few, mostly fan girls/boys, trying not to blow their nerd wad over the fact that they might wake up the day after the world is supposed to end to find zombies walking around (I may or may not be a part of this group…).

Regardless of if the world is truly going to end, I say spend the year as if it is really going to. Live life to the fullest (yuck, did I really just say that?). Tell those people that you love them, fuck whoever the hell you want, however the hell you want to. Eat that second piece of cake, dance naked to a B4-4 song, try something new, create, laugh so hard you turn inside out, play and most of all be yourself. Because even if we don’t wake up on December 22, at least until that point, 2012 will have been one kick ass year.

It’s the end of the world as we know it. Here’s how to spend your final days

201220122012

Student Work

Hand-drawn type on photograph, Troy Pynn

I am about to receive my second degree from OCADU. I started in 2002. Here’s what I know:

The third floor washroom across from the media sign out room is the cleanest washroom in school. It’s also good because nobody can see you go in or out * The 2nd cleanest washrooms are in the drawing and painting hall. Those people respect a good clean washroom. They are individual rooms and well worth the trip * Sandra, the design-programing assistant in the 5th floor design office has candies on her desk. She is very nice and will always let you take one * Never be afraid of the President’s office. Few students ever go there but they are welcome to, and will be met with people willing to help * The guy with the beard and glasses at the front desk in the main lobby should be considered the OCADU Oracle - he knows a lot about our school * We have a rapid prototyping lab run by friendly people. RP is a technology of the future. Definitely check it out * If you have never walked around school to go see all of the art and design in the making, you are missing out. When classes aren’t in session, go walk through the thesis painting studio, the materials art and design lab and the ceramics studio. If you are quiet and respectful you will be met with friendship. Be curious * The reason jewelry doesn’t let you in, is because the materials are expensive and if someone slips once, they could ruin very expensive materials that are very delicate * Go check out the first floor hallway where we have a plastics lab, metal lab, and woodshop. It’s cool * I like the person who keeps writing ‘boring’ in small letters, above the urinals, between the red tiles in the boy’s washrooms. Keep up the good work * A guy once created remote controlled caps to cover the holes in the giant pipes in the mail lobby above the front doors and would play the room-tone like a flute. It was awesome * I once used a smoke machine while shooting a film in third year and set off the fire alarm and the entire school evacuated. I told one security guy who never followed up :) * For some reason, when doing bake sales, the sellers never accept OCADU dollars, which is weird because they can be redeemed at the cashiers desk for ten cents more per dollar. I’ve never understood that and it has bothered me on many occasions * When the 2nd floor print shop is busy, usually the 6th floor one is not. Online ordering is the way to go with printing, but if you put it in at midnight, it won’t be ready by 8am. They need time to print it * There used to be a place in the Grange Food Court called Al’s Fish and Chips, where students would go smoke cigarettes indoors and

drink with their professors. He did karaoke nights and it was fun. I wish we still had a close place to smoke and drink with professors * If you drive, you can park for free in front of the ROM from 10:30am-3:30pm. It’s the strangest thing. There are 11 spots * There is one individual parking space beside, Above Ground, that is free all day. If you ever get it, you win! * I think it’s strange that there isn’t more cross-discipline collaborative projects * The integrated media hall way is cool * The navigation posters in the main lobby are crooked in the frame * Did you know the elevator to the table top is called the Zig Express? * If you have some money, buy student’s work. Especially the print making student’s work at the grad show * The chocolate chip cookies, at the cafe by the student lounge, are actually fantastic * Explore the school and don’t be shy. People are nice!

OCADUSECRETS

Confessions and advice from an OCADU veteran

“ There is one individual parking space beside, Above Ground, that is free all day. If you ever get it, you win!”

Student Work

Recently, I curated a show at the Gladstone Hotel, located in the heart of the Queen West Art District. The turn out was amazing and quite a few pieces were sold. Yet, I was confused as to why more people didn’t ask me how I ran into this opportunity—and how could they do it themselves? I think that many students feel that perhaps they don’t need to worry about showing their work until they graduate. And maybe they don’t need to worry. Curating the show at the Gladstone (in which I was also a participating artist) made me nervous about how everything would together and if people would be able to tell if it was clearly a student show rather than a professional one. Well, to all of this, I advise to all OCADians: show your work! Get it out there as soon as you possibly can! Take risks and enjoy the amazing experiences you will receive from putting a show together. And this is how you do it:

Find a venue.In my case, I heard about the Gladstone Hotel from a friend (who is also an OCAD U student). She had a show in the Art Bar last year. I went and saw it and point-blank asked her how she had put together this wonderful evening full of art and wine. Unless you have a diploma or degree from another school already, a lot of galleries will not take a student without a BFA. What I learned from my friend was that she rented out the space at the Gladstone for her first solo show. Some galleries will have rental options and it is up to you to do the research and find the one with the right fit for your work.

Find some friends. Sometimes the rental costs of a space can be quite high, I admit. For my show at the Gladstone, called Ethereal Existence, I split the cost between six of my friends and so each of us had to pay less than a hundred dollars for an amazing space. As the curator of the show, I selected these friends I wanted to exhibit with because I love their work and I know they’re all extremely talented. I chose the friends whose work I thought would compliment each other and stay in line with my theme for the show.

Get the specs.You might have seen pictures of the gallery online, back make a pilgrimage to the actual gallery and make sure you’re getting what you paid for. Measure the walls and talk to the director if they’re around. Getting to know who you’re working with is essential. Sometimes communicating over email can be difficult with the potential for a miscommunication.

Invite your friends: aka, ADVERTISE.The point of having a show in the first place is to show off what you’ve been working on for the last six months to a year. So invite your friends and advertise for your show early in advance! I advertised for my show in waves. First I just did word of mouth when it was a few months away. Then, closer to the date, I made posters, small invitations and sent out a press release of our show to a couple of Toronto blogs. I also sent out an email to every person I had on my email contact list—hoping that everyone was well and reminding them of the day.

In conclusion:From my experience, planning the show at the Gladstone Hotel was important for developing my skills as an artist, curator and businesswoman. You have to greet everyone, make sure they’re happy and let them know which way the bar is. If you can do all of these things, you’re well on your way to establishing yourself as an artist with a bright future ahead.

Photos source clockwise:

Speculative buyers

Artists: Alex Thompson, Claire Scherzinger, Emily Taylor, Emily Scherzinger, Singithi Kandage,Jaymie Karn

Enjoying some drinks and company.Artists:Claire Scherzinger,

Jaymie Karn, Emily Scherzinger

DYI: How To Do Your Own Show

Student Work

Artworks from left to right by:Julie Agro, Claire Scherziner,

John Smegal

The sky was growling, twisting, turning in on itself. Pellets of cold—was it rain or ice?—were falling, breaking windows, sounding alarms. He stood on the roof. Shingles fell away, clawed apart by the fingers of the wind and thrown at the pavement. From far away, he could see the ocean churning like cement. The wildest emotions were awakened in his long-empty chest. The last time that he had felt so powerful and full was when his wife and daughter were still alive, when he still had a job that he loved, when the sun still shone. But now he was feeling these emotions alone.

The storm was intensifying. The sky darkened, colours muted, but sounds grew stronger. Rain lashed down, beating treetops and pushing down his head. He felt his heart pounding with the beatings on his skin, numbing cold and pain. Bigger objects were being tossed in the air, flying haphazardly like kites pulled by an untrained string. It was getting harder to stand as the wind tugged him, whipping his hair and arms. He wanted to stand, stand unafraid of death with his eyes and arms open wide. He could see it coming; the vista and noise was incredible. He wondered if he should move; the house beneath his feet was sure to break apart or be lifted from its foundations. But it was his home, his grandfather with his brothers had built it themselves, planting the house firmly in the rocky hill. He felt that he should trust his house, sure that they would meet the same end together.

The storm was nerve-rackingly close now. Trees were being torn up and the coast was hidden by flying rubble and debris. He felt half calm and half disbelief at what he was doing. This was it. Every howl, every forceful attack from the wind, every thought and feeling

was internalized and the hurricane consumed his body and being. He could no longer open his eyes and he had no control or awareness of his body. He did not know if he was being ripped apart or battered out of existence. Time altered in his mind. A single moment became a lifetime and back again. When could he die? How would he die?

But then, peace. A silence so loud that he did not realize that the hurricane had relinquished its fury and was holding him gently in the palm of its hand. He dared to open his eyes. For a long moment he did not know where he was. He half believed that he had died, but he could not understand why there was nothing and no one here. The landscape seemed bleak, grey, and even familiar. Then he realized where he was: the eye–the core!–of the hurricane. A feeling of elation and adrenaline flushed through his body, making his skin tingle and his heart fill to overflowing. Inside the eye, sound was muffled but it completely surrounded him. He saw walls of wind and was not sure what truly existed within them. He felt a strange power. If he moved in the core, it felt as if the storm would move with him, that he and the hurricane were one. He resided in the core and could not leave it. He felt safe within his fortress although he had almost died getting into it. Emotions grew ever wilder in his body and he felt as if nothing could contain them. His conscience was breaking from his body; he could imagine the hurricane pulling him out of his body to make him its own. To consume him, to become one with him, to make him one with nature. And he wanted it. There was nothing beyond it. He could not go on after experiencing the full hurricane.

He opened his arms, walking towards the wall of the hurricane, the beginning and the end, and breathed, “Hello, hurricane”.

Hello HurricaneBy: Rose Ho

Kate Hogg

RECIPES

INGREDIENTS:

• 4 medium beets• 2 cloves garlic, minced• 1 small white onion, diced• 1 small can chickpeas• 1 small cucumber, chopped• 1 cup rice (can be substituted with couscous or quinoa)• olive oil• salt and pepper• spices and herbs that you like (see at the bottom for more

flavour combinations)

Other Tools You’ll Need:• aluminum foil and pan (for the beets)• pot (for the grains)• sauté pan • spatula

DIRECTIONS:

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F. Wrap the beets in aluminum foil and create a bowl shape around them. Drizzle some olive oil inside the foil bowl and close the package up. Roast the beets until a knife can easily slice through them, about 30 minutes. By roasting the beets first, they become soft and peeling the skin becomes easier. Let the beets cool, dice them, and set aside.

2. Cook rice or other grains according to package instructions. This step should be done after the beets are put into the oven and before cooking the other ingredients. Once rice is done, let cool and set aside.

3. Sauté the garlic and onions together until fragrant. Drain and rinse the chickpeas before adding them to the pan and cook for 10 minutes. When the chickpeas are warmed through, add the diced beets and cucumber into the pan. Season the ingredients in the pan with salt and pepper to taste. Now is the time to add the other flavour combinations, such as sesame oil and soy sauce, or coconut milk and curry. Turn heat the off when all the ingredients are warmed through.

This recipe is based on a 1-part vegetable, 1-part protein, and 1-part grain meal. All parts of the meal can be substituted or switched with another ingredient.

Need more flavour ideas? Not sure what goes with what in your pantry? Is your pantry more mixed up than your sock drawer? Go to http://www.thekitchn.com/quick-reference-a-guide-to-her-108770 to get a guide on what spices, herbs, and mixes go well with certain ingredients.

Roasted Beets, Cucumber, and Chickpeas over RiceBy: Cassi Wong-Lee

Jennifer de Vera

Carolina Galdamez

Student Work

Carolina Galdamez

Student Work

COMICS

Emily Taylor

Heather Fraser

B&W Films Catalogue, Steven Oliveira

Student Work

Alanna Mule

CONTENTSCADMIUM | February 2012

FEATURES

OPINIONS

EXTRAS

OCADU SECRETSConfessions and advice from an OCADU vetran.

RecipesRoasted Beets, Cucumber, and Chickpeas over Rice

2012, 2012, 2012It’s the end of the world. Here’s how to end it all with a band.

Hello HurricaneA short story by Rose Ho

Student Art WorkWorks from current OCAD U Students from various programs.

ComicsThings for you to look at during class.

COMICSA selection of OCADU comics and memes

Preventative Measures for the Impending a Zombie ApocalypseHow OCADU students can survive a zombie apocalyse.

MASH

Veronica Abrenica

Title- ‘Assembled Gestures’

CADMIUMROUND TWO ISSUE: February 2012

Free Volume 3 Number 3

2012ITS THE END OF THE WORLD!

HURRICANEHELLO

A SHORT STORY BY ROSE HO