A make-shift video recording of my final, final critique as an undergrad photo art student.

I apologize for how terribly inarticulate I sound during it. I had been dreading the last critique in Matthews Hall Room 224, since the moment I realized it would soon be over. I have had every single photography critique in that worn down room for the past five years. The abused and lovingly punctured corked walls became my safe escape, my sought sanctuary. Terribly nostalgic, I feared the last time my photographs would be pinned up on those walls, when my turn would at last, be over.  The conversation would finally come to an end.

And  so, when the moment  did arrive, words got lost as they often do. The critique overall, is rather anti-climatic and average. The class was an unconventional photo class and the final projects were varied and individually based. Just thought I would share the moment.