So I slept about, oh, 1.5, maybe even 2 hours last night. Nevertheless, I got up and went about the morning duties while I felt the blood drain from my face, disappearing to wherever the energy I didn't have was hiding. Then I got me to campus, put on my best impression of Someone Who Is Conscious, and got on with the day. I dunno how, but I survived. I'm about to go crawl into bed, though. But first I had an interesting idea float into my sleep-deprived, deflated brain.
Right after I graduated, I spent about... 4 years doing very little with my life. Sure, I was working full time and I did two semesters of general studies, but I was mostly a zombie for the entire experience. I spent a lot of time alone in the basement playing video games. I only need one hand to count the amount of times I went out with friends. I need about half a hand to count said friends. So I worked and gamed. The only thing of substance that comes to mind is that I started drawing regularly every day and that I managed to save 90% of the money I earned.
So I look back at the little zombie I was... And I wonder to myself what those years meant. I want to write it off and say that, as a whole, I did very little that was worth-while over that period. Four years is a long time to spend every evening playing whatever it was that captivated me before going to bed, working the next day, and then repeating the whole process over. There's not a lot of substance there. Fun and distraction, sure... But not a whole lot of livin' goin' on.
But, at the same time... I started drawing regularly every day and I managed to save 90% of the money I earned. Without those two things there's not a doubt in my mind that I would've got myself into art school to pursue a Bachelor's degree in graphic design (that experience and its impact is in and of itself way too big for this post). So if those years of idleness set the foundation for where I am now, doing something worthwhile, does that mean it was a waste? I took advantage of that time to work and save and learn to draw (which I think is one of the most impactful decisions on my life I ever made, and if you're reading this Frank, I credit you for it). These things really opened a lot of possibilities. So it was all worth it, right?
Well... I'm still not sure. Because I look back and there are SO MANY things I wish I would've done with myself. I wish I would've learned a new musical instrument, or traveled, or got a car I'd learn how to repair, or met people, or saw movies, or ate out, or find a girl to like, or worked out, or gone on road trips, or gone to concerts, or ______. There's so much that was left undone that, longs story short, I've now learned to realize that I'm missing out on the hard way.
So what if I just narrow it down to the money thing in particular? If I would've done those things, I wouldn't have had nearly as much savings, if any at all. But it all would've gone to something worthwhile, no? There are always loans for school. I could've used all that to go places and do things.
Bleh, I don't know. There are a whole lot of 'if' questions that come with this particular avenue of pondering. I almost want to stop and define what exactly I mean when I say "worthwhile". The past is past, and there's no use bleeding over it, I guess. The only thing to do is to learn something from it and keep it with you while pressing forward.
I'm feeling oddly introspective and philosofikle at the moment, and I could just keep on going and going. So many thoughts in this jumbled, slushy head o' mine. I need to sleep.
I think my main point, though, is that I still gots lots of livin' to do yet.
-Cril
David Holmes - Don't Die Just Yet
Monday, October 29, 2012
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Busted Valve
So near the end of the semester, there's usually this all-encompassing sense of dread and anxiety, as I stress about... Everything. And I'm currently saddled with said feeling right about now. I swear, I'm going to have a stroke if I have to go for the next two months like this. There is an unbelievable amount of work. I just need to keep telling me that I need to throttle back and simplify my projects. They won't be done anywhere near how I'd like them to be, and my portfolio will be crap once I graduate, but I'll have the time I need after that I fix it all up.
Anyways. I was in the studio all day today (...and yesterday) and sat and talked with a friend and another close classmate. We were discussing various topics, and I made the observation that someone once said something along the lines of "we are the average of the five people we spend the most amount of time around." And then the other two stopped, and tried to pinned down who their closest five people were. I tried to do the same, but came up short. I got about as far as two or three before I ran out. There are other people in my life, sure, but I don't spend a particularly significant amount of time around them. And what happens if that means 60% of your average self is based on no one? That's reflected in how you think/act, methinks. I get the sense that not spending time around anyone means that... You spend more time alone. And your "average you" skews towards introverted/antisocial/shy. Maybe. Just a thought, but the idea intuitively seems to have merit.
Another thing that came up in our conversation was what our personal release valve is. The classmate said for her it was martial arts, which she hadn't done in a long time. My friend said alcohol (in a sad but true tone) and spending time with friends. My release valve, after a moment of pondering... Is/was driving.
The last month and a half and a bit has been really hard on me in that regard. I miss my car. I miss driving. I find myself staring in fascination at every Integra that floats by, and holding my breath and looking away whenever the bus travels by where the accident took place. I was to feel the vibration of the engine through the shifter, and the roads bumps and nuances through the steering wheel. And I desperately, hopelessly want to be able to plug in my music and just go.
But I can't. I need to get this insurance thing figured out, which is difficult considering how NO ONE WILL RETURN MY PHONE CALLS. And I'm getting worried that it's going to be too late to do anything, considering how much time has passed. But the plan this week is to leave a message every day, and if that doesn't work, I'm going to go down to the insurance office and camp out until someone, anyone talks to me.
Sigh. The worst part is that dealing with this stuff... Brings up all the emotional crap tied to the accident.
I miss driving. I miss driving a lot. I want my release valve back.
-Cril
Wading through the waste stormy winter
And there's not a friend to help you through
Trying to stop the waves behind your eyeballs
Drop your reds drop your greens and blues
Thank you for your wine, California
Thank you for your sweet and bitter fruits
Yes, Ive got the desert in my toenail
And hid the speed inside my shoe
But come on come on down sweet Virginia
Come on honey child I beg of you
Come on come on down you got it in you
Got to scrape that shit right off your shoes
Rolling Stones - Sweet Virginia
Anyways. I was in the studio all day today (...and yesterday) and sat and talked with a friend and another close classmate. We were discussing various topics, and I made the observation that someone once said something along the lines of "we are the average of the five people we spend the most amount of time around." And then the other two stopped, and tried to pinned down who their closest five people were. I tried to do the same, but came up short. I got about as far as two or three before I ran out. There are other people in my life, sure, but I don't spend a particularly significant amount of time around them. And what happens if that means 60% of your average self is based on no one? That's reflected in how you think/act, methinks. I get the sense that not spending time around anyone means that... You spend more time alone. And your "average you" skews towards introverted/antisocial/shy. Maybe. Just a thought, but the idea intuitively seems to have merit.
Another thing that came up in our conversation was what our personal release valve is. The classmate said for her it was martial arts, which she hadn't done in a long time. My friend said alcohol (in a sad but true tone) and spending time with friends. My release valve, after a moment of pondering... Is/was driving.
The last month and a half and a bit has been really hard on me in that regard. I miss my car. I miss driving. I find myself staring in fascination at every Integra that floats by, and holding my breath and looking away whenever the bus travels by where the accident took place. I was to feel the vibration of the engine through the shifter, and the roads bumps and nuances through the steering wheel. And I desperately, hopelessly want to be able to plug in my music and just go.
But I can't. I need to get this insurance thing figured out, which is difficult considering how NO ONE WILL RETURN MY PHONE CALLS. And I'm getting worried that it's going to be too late to do anything, considering how much time has passed. But the plan this week is to leave a message every day, and if that doesn't work, I'm going to go down to the insurance office and camp out until someone, anyone talks to me.
Sigh. The worst part is that dealing with this stuff... Brings up all the emotional crap tied to the accident.
I miss driving. I miss driving a lot. I want my release valve back.
-Cril
Wading through the waste stormy winter
And there's not a friend to help you through
Trying to stop the waves behind your eyeballs
Drop your reds drop your greens and blues
Thank you for your wine, California
Thank you for your sweet and bitter fruits
Yes, Ive got the desert in my toenail
And hid the speed inside my shoe
But come on come on down sweet Virginia
Come on honey child I beg of you
Come on come on down you got it in you
Got to scrape that shit right off your shoes
Rolling Stones - Sweet Virginia
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Get Yoself in da Game, Head
"This weekend I'm going to buckle down, concentrate, and power through some homework. It's time to stop slacking off, and really try to get back on top of things."
I've said that about two or three times now. It's kind of scary how much trouble I'm having really getting focused as the semester is picking up. It ain't funny any more folks, I REALLY have stuff I need to have solid progress on.
For Friday's class, we're branding a made-up product. We were supposed to have a brand name, logo sketches, and rough packing layouts ready to go. I worked ALL Thursday evening and ALL Friday morning leading up to my crit with the prof. What did I have to show for it? A name. That's it. Oh, well, I suppose I threw in some last-minute design inspirations for the direction I wanted to pursue. But, yeah. Nowhere near what I wanted to have done.
And here I am now, working on a book/publication for Monday. My goal was to have 2-3 spreads fairly completed. Instead, I'll be lucky if I have one done.
Procrastination, ha ha ha, you so funny.
...except I hate you.
Part of me is really looking forward to getting submersed in the work - staying at the studio late every night. Hunkered down with a crappy ol' cuppa noodle for supper, plugging away until it's time for me to go grab the last bus. I want that total submersion, not only to make the most of my fourth and final year of school, but to escape away from a bucket load of other things on my mind. People problems, thing problems, future problems. 99 Problems, Plus One. Or two, even.
Even worse, part of me inside is SCREAMING to be done. To be finished. I am so damn sick of having homework hang over my head every evening and day and weekend. I'm looking forward so much to not have this problem any more. I'm looking forward to getting a car. And learning to play the mandolin. And stay up late playing video games with friends and clanmates on a Friday night. And getting a macro lens, and drawing, and planning trips/adventures, and generally trying to make up for many years of my life that went unlived. That's right, I'm practically the walking dead.
Sigh. That desperate feeling of freedom right around the corner makes me feel like I'm going to burst. What I really need, though, is to cram that into a tiny box, and throw a lock around it, and focus on my work. Work, work, work. Just gotta survive for a bit longer. Please, just help me survive a bit longer.
-Cril
Ucieknê od przepaœci
Tych ramion z których siê nie wyrwê nigdy ju¿
Od jezior twoich oczu
Utopiê siê gdy wskoczê
Ucieknê bo
Nie mogê tak dalej
Ucieknê st¹d
Jak mogê najdalej
Ucieknê od pu³apki orchidei ust
Goran Bregovic - Spij Kochanie, Spij
I've said that about two or three times now. It's kind of scary how much trouble I'm having really getting focused as the semester is picking up. It ain't funny any more folks, I REALLY have stuff I need to have solid progress on.
For Friday's class, we're branding a made-up product. We were supposed to have a brand name, logo sketches, and rough packing layouts ready to go. I worked ALL Thursday evening and ALL Friday morning leading up to my crit with the prof. What did I have to show for it? A name. That's it. Oh, well, I suppose I threw in some last-minute design inspirations for the direction I wanted to pursue. But, yeah. Nowhere near what I wanted to have done.
And here I am now, working on a book/publication for Monday. My goal was to have 2-3 spreads fairly completed. Instead, I'll be lucky if I have one done.
Procrastination, ha ha ha, you so funny.
...except I hate you.
Part of me is really looking forward to getting submersed in the work - staying at the studio late every night. Hunkered down with a crappy ol' cuppa noodle for supper, plugging away until it's time for me to go grab the last bus. I want that total submersion, not only to make the most of my fourth and final year of school, but to escape away from a bucket load of other things on my mind. People problems, thing problems, future problems. 99 Problems, Plus One. Or two, even.
Even worse, part of me inside is SCREAMING to be done. To be finished. I am so damn sick of having homework hang over my head every evening and day and weekend. I'm looking forward so much to not have this problem any more. I'm looking forward to getting a car. And learning to play the mandolin. And stay up late playing video games with friends and clanmates on a Friday night. And getting a macro lens, and drawing, and planning trips/adventures, and generally trying to make up for many years of my life that went unlived. That's right, I'm practically the walking dead.
Sigh. That desperate feeling of freedom right around the corner makes me feel like I'm going to burst. What I really need, though, is to cram that into a tiny box, and throw a lock around it, and focus on my work. Work, work, work. Just gotta survive for a bit longer. Please, just help me survive a bit longer.
-Cril
Ucieknê od przepaœci
Tych ramion z których siê nie wyrwê nigdy ju¿
Od jezior twoich oczu
Utopiê siê gdy wskoczê
Ucieknê bo
Nie mogê tak dalej
Ucieknê st¹d
Jak mogê najdalej
Ucieknê od pu³apki orchidei ust
Goran Bregovic - Spij Kochanie, Spij
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)