Confessions of an On the Rocks Volunteer

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I’ve volunteered with OTR since my first year. I was never on committee, or too involved. I never had a sweater, although they do look really cool. But I volunteered. I helped out in random ways. There are photos of me involved. There is an email history that would prove that I did at one point have an email relationship with OTR. And, I have very strong feelings, mostly happy ones, associated with OTR.

I confess, I should have gone to art school. At least, that’s what I think around 1am when I am making collages in my pyjamas while sitting in bed with my hot water bottle. OTR makes me think for two weeks that I do go to art school.

Odd events on creative topics by colourful people, even though I know all-black outfits are really in right now. I remember that one time I held a sign in the sunlight, and got to watch these incredible dance performances. I didn’t realize that girl I met once in Prague during Race 2 was also an incredible belly dancer. Or that girl I met at an ArtSoc evening could also break dance. I didn’t realize that kid from Salem was also a poet, and could slam it up.

During OTR, it seemed like all these art school selves, these paral- lel personalities came out and dabble in the three streets of St Andrews. Now, as a fourth year, while I am locked inside the library consumed by school work and wishing I could be at a play – any play- but instead am trying to be critical, I will be remembering those memories as a volunteer in sub-honours when I was free. Free as a bird to be as artsy as my little hard desired. So go be part of OTR before you actually have shit to do that doesn’t involve feathers, masks or glitter glue.

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