This weekend's visit south left me hungry for the northern quiet - cool green space, crumbling cement and clean light. Bri and I visited central LA for the ArtWalk (neat!) and the campus at Long Beach to poke noses into some class critiques and bug more professors. After working in the studio for so many years, its hard to conjure up what school instruction means. It would've been easier to accept the mystery, if there was only one choice. But, now I am trying to figure out what to weigh, and how to weigh it. Davis's program is colored by the dappled light on cement from trees everywhere, and the generous studio space. The south is getting brighter. Reflected light off cement? the water? Its a blur of brilliant green lawn, classrooms filled with easels, and sound bytes from teachers. Facts are simmering, emotions scattered. It is hard to imagine leaving this landscape and the idiosyncratic culture of the Bay even for a couple years.