It's time to update on my life.
There are three weeks left of school. What I've realized is that each day spent in college, living independently and what not, beckons a continuous flow of some of life's most profound, yet intensely disturbing, questions. Every stretch of days or so, I arrive at a new question, or multiple questions.
Is this who I really am? who I've become? will I be like this in the future when I am a wife? a mother? No, the future will ask even more of me; I'll need to be stronger, more resilient, harder-working, more responsible, more accountable, and I will have to think of others more often and truly than I do of myself. I will work late nights and I instead of having five deadlines for five classes I'm taking now this semester, I'll have five times as much on my mind - food, home/rent, car, commissions, church, cleaning, appointments, meetings, ... the list goes on.
I'm assuming it's natural for anyone to think these things and feel anxious, but whether or not people doubt themselves at this stage, when they imagine the future and see themselves failing at life because they don't think they have it in them, is more of a variant than, say, a common or prevalent feeling of anxiety.
Self-doubt is me right now. Physically, I feel like my body is numb and my soul is suspended in a cave inside of me, shaking. I don't think I have it in me to be someone outstanding enough, someone that people look up to and admire. I am more convinced that I have it in me to persevere, but not be respected or honored in the way I want to for my parents.
The Maryland Institute College of Art is a strange place. I went to MICA completely blank-minded and blind-sighted. Looking back at when a rep from MICA first came to my Briarcliff art classroom to promote the college, I am astounded at how remarkably severed a lived experience is from a simple presentation of its institution (literally, because she used a powerpoint) is. The fact is, everything falls short of description, no matter how detailed and labored or thought-over your words are. Nothing compares to the reality of the moment than the lived experience itself.
I'm not saying MICA lies or pitches false impressions. I'm saying, ten, twenty, thirty years from now, my college life will not only have shaped me into being, but it will also have shed down into mere words (written on a page, spoken, or evidenced through documents) that all the memories of it will be consumed over time for its own purposes and the day I utter back those words I will have embodied what it has given me.
That is also to say that my time here at MICA right now is a capsule. Once I'm out, I'm out and there's no going back.
People understand that adults are also kids. Physically, they once were, but they also possess the desire to relax and enjoy themselves from time to time again. Childish adults are really immature, but an adult who is a child inside is admirable and relatable. When we were all kids, we would look up to adults and see them as a whole different kind of species living in their own world. First, they appeared as giants, towering over us having adult one-on-one conversations, one having his arms crossed with a plastic cup in one hand doing the talking, and one making an L shape with his fingers on his chin and a hand in his pocket thinking hard. And we'd observe their serious expressions, their nodding, their harboring of something completely oblivious to us. High school, but especially College, is where we kids discover how much parents hold back the world for us to make a transition into it. The world demands many things of a human being as much as it subjects him to isolation. That is the post-modern world I am entering, and to be honest, I think it's fair game for how the generations below me will develop into their own world. You see, the world just doesn't become on its own. The world one generation enters into was built by the generations that came before it. Therefore, the world I will be building will be the world my little cousins will be entering in the decade to come. We are never simply transforming consecutively or linearly in time, but our actions hold weight much like the touching of the surface of water from a skipping rock.
Apparently, there are billions and billions of books out there, and there's a statistic that shows that there's a new book churning out every so [insert small interval] - day? (something like that). The novels and books and authors and philosophers I've come across in my courses here at MICA have been self-gratifying, because the quality of work and reputation of the author is well worth the time to digest and educate in. It just leaves me completely dumbfounded at how voices all over the world and throughout our entire history has been preserved, and what a loss it is only to be touching upon a very select few. From what I've read so far, I never imagined the conclusions or realizations I've had in real life would have already made its way into publication by someone wise and well-spoken enough to share before my time. It's both reassuring and nullifying because for one, I can confidently acknowledge that what I am going through in life right now has happened to someone before, and for two, it makes me feel like I'm just a repetition of the first and, therefore, insignificant.
While this has become a super long post, I'll end with my hopes. Ultimately, I hold onto God's faithfulness and the belief that He wants what is best for me in light of the world. I hope in his unconditional and utter love for me. I also hope in the day I will meet Him face-to-face and be made new again. I trust that along the rough road in life, my parents and siblings will be there for me. I trust that God will inspire me through other people and it will greatly motivate me to also do great things. I trust that no matter what happens to me on earth, that earth is not my home. I believe that God is also molding me into a teacher and understander so that I can help grow the next generations that will take after me. I understand the profound importance of paying attention to our younger generations and not only being there for them, but also being role models for them. I trust God's work in them as they grow. Lastly, I trust in the church, that people who have faith in God, no matter who we are, what we've been through, where we came from, would be united in God and would be each other's support and strength. May He continue to show Himself to us.
There are three weeks left of school. What I've realized is that each day spent in college, living independently and what not, beckons a continuous flow of some of life's most profound, yet intensely disturbing, questions. Every stretch of days or so, I arrive at a new question, or multiple questions.
Is this who I really am? who I've become? will I be like this in the future when I am a wife? a mother? No, the future will ask even more of me; I'll need to be stronger, more resilient, harder-working, more responsible, more accountable, and I will have to think of others more often and truly than I do of myself. I will work late nights and I instead of having five deadlines for five classes I'm taking now this semester, I'll have five times as much on my mind - food, home/rent, car, commissions, church, cleaning, appointments, meetings, ... the list goes on.
I'm assuming it's natural for anyone to think these things and feel anxious, but whether or not people doubt themselves at this stage, when they imagine the future and see themselves failing at life because they don't think they have it in them, is more of a variant than, say, a common or prevalent feeling of anxiety.
Self-doubt is me right now. Physically, I feel like my body is numb and my soul is suspended in a cave inside of me, shaking. I don't think I have it in me to be someone outstanding enough, someone that people look up to and admire. I am more convinced that I have it in me to persevere, but not be respected or honored in the way I want to for my parents.
The Maryland Institute College of Art is a strange place. I went to MICA completely blank-minded and blind-sighted. Looking back at when a rep from MICA first came to my Briarcliff art classroom to promote the college, I am astounded at how remarkably severed a lived experience is from a simple presentation of its institution (literally, because she used a powerpoint) is. The fact is, everything falls short of description, no matter how detailed and labored or thought-over your words are. Nothing compares to the reality of the moment than the lived experience itself.
I'm not saying MICA lies or pitches false impressions. I'm saying, ten, twenty, thirty years from now, my college life will not only have shaped me into being, but it will also have shed down into mere words (written on a page, spoken, or evidenced through documents) that all the memories of it will be consumed over time for its own purposes and the day I utter back those words I will have embodied what it has given me.
That is also to say that my time here at MICA right now is a capsule. Once I'm out, I'm out and there's no going back.
People understand that adults are also kids. Physically, they once were, but they also possess the desire to relax and enjoy themselves from time to time again. Childish adults are really immature, but an adult who is a child inside is admirable and relatable. When we were all kids, we would look up to adults and see them as a whole different kind of species living in their own world. First, they appeared as giants, towering over us having adult one-on-one conversations, one having his arms crossed with a plastic cup in one hand doing the talking, and one making an L shape with his fingers on his chin and a hand in his pocket thinking hard. And we'd observe their serious expressions, their nodding, their harboring of something completely oblivious to us. High school, but especially College, is where we kids discover how much parents hold back the world for us to make a transition into it. The world demands many things of a human being as much as it subjects him to isolation. That is the post-modern world I am entering, and to be honest, I think it's fair game for how the generations below me will develop into their own world. You see, the world just doesn't become on its own. The world one generation enters into was built by the generations that came before it. Therefore, the world I will be building will be the world my little cousins will be entering in the decade to come. We are never simply transforming consecutively or linearly in time, but our actions hold weight much like the touching of the surface of water from a skipping rock.
Apparently, there are billions and billions of books out there, and there's a statistic that shows that there's a new book churning out every so [insert small interval] - day? (something like that). The novels and books and authors and philosophers I've come across in my courses here at MICA have been self-gratifying, because the quality of work and reputation of the author is well worth the time to digest and educate in. It just leaves me completely dumbfounded at how voices all over the world and throughout our entire history has been preserved, and what a loss it is only to be touching upon a very select few. From what I've read so far, I never imagined the conclusions or realizations I've had in real life would have already made its way into publication by someone wise and well-spoken enough to share before my time. It's both reassuring and nullifying because for one, I can confidently acknowledge that what I am going through in life right now has happened to someone before, and for two, it makes me feel like I'm just a repetition of the first and, therefore, insignificant.
While this has become a super long post, I'll end with my hopes. Ultimately, I hold onto God's faithfulness and the belief that He wants what is best for me in light of the world. I hope in his unconditional and utter love for me. I also hope in the day I will meet Him face-to-face and be made new again. I trust that along the rough road in life, my parents and siblings will be there for me. I trust that God will inspire me through other people and it will greatly motivate me to also do great things. I trust that no matter what happens to me on earth, that earth is not my home. I believe that God is also molding me into a teacher and understander so that I can help grow the next generations that will take after me. I understand the profound importance of paying attention to our younger generations and not only being there for them, but also being role models for them. I trust God's work in them as they grow. Lastly, I trust in the church, that people who have faith in God, no matter who we are, what we've been through, where we came from, would be united in God and would be each other's support and strength. May He continue to show Himself to us.
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