How quickly things change. How the present becomes a blurry memory. How the summer breeze becomes the rhythmic crunch of fall leaves. How my tanlines are already fading. How I'm starting to forget what Nicholas & I had for lunch two weeks ago. Sometimes change stresses me out. Not because I'm unprepared for the future. Not because I'm worried of what it may bring. But because it doesn't take long at all for a beautiful afternoon to become nostalgic. I'm already daydreaming about waterfalls and southern picnics, and soon enough I'll be making up most of it.
School starts tomorrow. It's a rather surreal feeling, starting my third year. How am I already halfway done? When I started, I felt like I was at the very bottom of my class. I was so behind everyone, and the only thing going for me was my work ethic and potential. I came to CIA for communication design. I ended up majoring in T.I.M.E. Digital Arts with an emphasis in animation. And now I want to study more than that. I went from a very commercial field to dreaming of being a fine artist. I am no longer terrified of Conté or newsprint or still lifes or figure drawing. I am anxious, not afraid, to try to mediums. And I have never felt more free. I came here knowing that I would be paying for everything myself, terrified that I wouldn't get a job and would be buried in debt. Now, that's not a concern. I have my share of loans, but I'm sure that if I want one, I could get a job when I graduate. But I would be perfectly happy without so many luxuries. As long as I have a camera of some sort, and something to move in tiny increments, I'll be ok. A roof over my head would be wonderful, and regular meals would be nice. But that's really all I need for my sanity. Money won't make me happy. It might make things easier, but it could just as easily complicate things. I have goals for myself, but they are really goals to help others. I really don't feel the need to worry about it.
Mondays are gonna be hell for me this year. They make my previous long days look like lazy afternoons. As of right now, this is what I'll look forward to at the start of every week:
8am-9:15am Photo History
9:30am-12pm Creative Resistance: Media Art in the Social Sphere
12:30pm-1:45pm Sexuality and Popular Culture in America
2pm-4:30pm Creative Resistance: Media Art in the Social Sphere
5pm-10pm Animation II
Talk about having a permanent case of the Mondays. On the bright side, I have Thursday through Sunday completely off. At least until I add jobs in the mix.
Right now, I need to get together a stack of notebooks and sketchbooks for my 4 classes tomorrow, pack a lunch or two, clean some more, and pick out a dress to wear. Perhaps do some ironing. And most importantly, dream.
Ps. Dear Nicholas, how vividly do you remember that day? I know that it was a Tuesday. It was May 20, 2008, and this was right after you flew in that morning. The park was a field of dandelion clocks and I made wish after wish that you would never have to leave. You looked good in a tux, and my dress was too big. Mia wanted to be in every picture with us before we left for the ball. We danced to only two songs, the second being "American Pie." I don't remember the slow song. I don't remember what we ate, but I remember the pattern of the plates. I remember the river, and you analyzing boats. I remember staying up all night, and you were up nearly 24 hours. We made airplanes out of foam, though I don't remember where they came from. I drank Mountain Dew and you had your Coke. We ran through the inflatable shark slide so many times, I could barley breath in between my giggles. You beat me at putt putt, and I used a pink golf ball. I forgot to bring a change of shoes, and I forgot what you forgot. I wore my Will Hoge shirt, and I think you wore your North Face. Although, you do so often, that I might just be making it up.