THIS may be the last post I write on the computer in the Hudson Digital Television Studio.
I’m very sad, in a sort of internalized way, about all this. So maybe I should externalize a bit for my health. I wasn’t ever particularly close to Jim Hudson, least not as much as some video-hungry corporate American students, or the other faculty, but we had a friendly acquaintance and hung out a few times off school grounds. I was working on a final final final project just now down the hall when it struck me, something he said to the effect that I’d never really learn anything important in this school, or from him. That the best classroom was the real world, the industry, the machines of life, and that any advice anybody gives you can’t prepare you for the hard knocks. It was probably the most important thing I’ve ever learned, at least from him. Another reason I respected Jim so much (aside from the fact that he wanted you to call him by his first name, as many of the teachers here do) was that he told me my work was shit. He told me my work was shit respectfully, like a colleague would, and said that he knew I could do better. He also always had a general disdain for the way administrations, bureaucrats and systems never worked, and would readily tel you how he felt about the impractical, opportunistic edifice that was AIP. I miss him.
And now I’m looking at the TV studio named in his honor, (though I’m sure the tour guides claim that the ‘H’D stands for High Def), and I’m thinking about the many times this place has changed. And the many ways I’ve changed. I’ve got some very fond memories of this room alone. Some very fond memories. Some that can’t be told here lest a future employer or perhaps AIP faculty see it. Well, I’ll always remember.
And even if I don’t, I’m looking at it NOW. And that’s perhaps good enough.