While I was at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago’s Early College program this summer, I was introduced to the photographer Ryan McGinley, and my entire view on photography as an art form changed.

I’m the youngest of three daughters, being six years younger than the sister closest in age to me, and eight years younger then my oldest sister.

The demon of all school-related anxiety has struck again, and this blow may very well be the worst one so far.

Miley Cyrus, put some clothes on. Seriously. I think we all put up with you bopping around in obnoxiously sequined teeny garb with ultra-teased, bottle-blond faux follicles. Do you really need to be posing half-naked in Vanity Fair?

Recently I’ve discovered a painter whose work is acutely, emotionally evocative; this is the self-taught Jeremy Lynch. Lynch’s paintings are a swirl of passionate hues and moody tones, complex and honest.

Here on the Gargoyle staff we are required to write weekly blog entries. They give us a chance to freely express ourselves on whatever topics we might want to.

Most American high schools students, and all Uni students, use the Internet to communicate with others. Whether it be e-mail, IM, MySpace, or Facebook, communication through the Internet is completely familiar for us.

But indirect communication doesn’t stop at the computer, for there are all sorts of cell phone phenomena that allow us to talk with each other without speaking out loud.

I'm awfully reminiscent of my summer last year. It consisted of a monthlong trip to Greece and Italy, an incredible two-week stay at film camp in Ann Arbor, Mich., and, of course, lounging about and adventuring around Champaign-Urbana toward the end of the summer.

Drivers ed starts this week, and so the freedom to drive will be, in time, handed over to me.

But the feeling of liberty is clouded by the feeling of responsibility and fear. Driving is undoubtedly dangerous, something we should all know not only from adults trying to scare us, but from first-hand experience as either a driver or passenger.

I finally got around to seeing “There Will Be Blood,” and my mind was absolutely blown away. I’d like to make a little bit of an informal, quick kudos to the cast of this phenomenal film.

I'm already feeling nervous: College? EEK!

It’s only my sophomore year, and I am not going to shoot for an Ivy League school (just because I’m not that attracted to any of them), but I’m already going through a preliminary phase of passive-yet-nail-biting-ridden anxiety.

I braved the slush and the cold for a good photo session this Saturday. Results? Here they are:

The self-portrait is a pain in the butt. It’s difficult and generally unsatisfying. Yet it’s something that I, an individual not necessarily driven by an obsession for perfection, want to do accurately.

I think, perhaps ignorantly so, that of all artists photographers may very well have the most difficult time with self-portraits, and painters the easiest.

This weekend I saw my first ever “American Pie” film, “American Pie Presents: Beta House.”

Wow.