Something happened, in all likelihood, or I'd keep my crap to myself. It's either funny (to me), important (to me), or some random stuff that popped into my head that is probably inane and otherwise pointless (to everyone, but me).
Thursday, October 30, 2014
Epiphany
As I've probably mentioned, I'm taking an intermediate Spanish course this semester (the second to last one I need) and we have a writing assignment. Our professor provided the two options beforehand so we could prepare. We can't use what we write, but we can organize our thoughts and iron out some of the kinks so we can complete our essay in class--and possibly leave some time to spare.
One of the questions, which seems easy at first, is: Write about two groups that you consider yourself to be a member of. There are more parts to this like, who are members, are the groups diverse, etc. I wanted to do this essay, but I realized I don't know what groups I belong to. I could say America, or Virginia, or whatever, but I don't really feel at home here. I felt much more at home when I was in Costa Rica. I'd say I'm a member of the Female Group, but I feel at odds with my gender a lot of the time. I'm part of the Milennials, but again, I'm a little old to be with them and a little young to be Gen X. I have characteristics of both generations. I'd say I'm part of the community of my employer, but I'm at a point where I feel like I've outgrown it (the grapevine, the passion of the topic, the willingness to sacrifice my personal life). I have different priorities. I'm part of my school's community, but only as a technicality. Other than that, I'm part of my own personal community of my family. I'm a wife and a mother. Those seem like groups in which I could feel like part of a community, but as a divorcee and remarried woman, my wife classification is a little funky and as a relatively young mother, I struggle to fit in with other moms. I'm too old to be a teen mom and too young to be included among my daughter's classmates' mothers.
Maybe the larger issue is that I struggle with my identity, even at this stage in my life. I know that I am young, but I've reached many of the different levels in the game of life. Again, I'm a wife and a mother. I have a mortgage, life insurance, and a will. I've lost my father, a father-in-law, my grandparents, and nearly my mother. I'm a former store manager who hasn't graduated college. I'm a feminine woman who is not girly. I'm a gamer, an athlete, and an artist. I love turtles, Ninja Turtles, Batman, Miyazaki, sci-fi, fantasy, real-life crime dramas, but I don't dig Dungeons and Dragons, cosplay, dogs or horses. I'm a mix of many things. Jack of all trades, yet master of none. It's filling a lot of roles, but none completely.
Perhaps it's a lack of personal achievement in ways I find meaningful. I love my children. I'm proud of delivering each one naturally and under three hours a piece. I love being a mother, but I hate not having a degree or a career, or even knowing what career I'm interested in. I haven't published a book or sold a work of my art. I haven't invented a product that satisfies a need. So far, I've only produced children. Amazing children, but children, nonetheless. I want to do something meaningful. Something that belongs to me and me alone (or as a team of highly qualified individuals). Someday it will happen, but I'm impatient and presently dissatisfied.
I've leave this post as it is for now since I need to be productive and complete some school assignments that the failure of which will hinder my progress. Nobody wants that less than I.
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
Just Past Mid-Year Resolution
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
"Looking for Lunch Buddy"/Art
I sat down to eat my leftovers from yesterday. Half of a sub with ham, roast beef, shredded lettuce, tomatoes, raw shredded onions, and a deliciously spicy dijon mustard/mayo combo. Yum. Afterwards, I opened my book to read a section from a book named Como agua para chocolate. We only have a page of two from the story so I went online to read a quick summary. It's a little messed up, but a lot of stories are. Many stories are overly dramatic and unrealistic. If they weren't, there's a chance they'd resemble our own lives a little too much, boring and predictable. Don't get me wrong, I have a fondness for predictable. It's very useful with small children, but hard to break out of. As I've noted, I'm interested in writing more often; however, I'm finding it very challenging to actually make time to do it, which I've been told (through author quotes on Twitter) means I don't want to do it badly enough. Maybe I don't. It's hard to say.
When I was younger, I was very interested in drawing. I used to do sketches constantly: little cartoons (Smiley Plant was a favorite of mine--Link pending) and faces. I learned early on that faces (and other drawings) make use of shadows to illustrate depth and create a three dimensional effect. I never believed myself that talented. It seemed natural and easy to me to darken parts of the face that sit further back and keep light on the parts that stick out more, such as the tip of the nose, the brow, and the chin. When considering the work of others, I know I'm not that talented. I possess no more ability than the common street artist. I lack vision. My sketches are little more than doodles with no thought and no heart. True artists look at a blank sketchpad and see a drawing within. They are merely exposing it and bringing it to light. They apply emotion, texture, and content. Artists bring their images to life.
The same can be said of painting. I love to paint. There is almost nothing sweeter and more satisfying than sweeping a brush of oil paint across a canvas. Blending two colors to create a third. You learn that shadows are not about using more hatches like pen or more lead with pencil, but choosing different colors and making the ones you do not already have. You can show light and dark with red and green. Painting is an expression of your soul when used liberally. That stuff I can do. Paintings of buildings and wild cats, sunny days changing to rain, birds scattering to the sky--that I cannot do. Again, I lack the ability to visualize how I want to picture to turn out. Even when I have an idea, I lack the technique to bring it to life.
Writing presents a different challenge. I have a story to tell. I know how to tell it. I've been encouraged by a published writer (local friend) that I have ability. I cannot seem to turn up the heat enough to ignite my passion. I enjoy writing, hearing the rhythm of the words in my mind as I read them soundlessly, putting them down digitally. Why can't I just suck it up and do it? Why, indeed.
Thursday, October 2, 2014
Hablo español
Today I stayed after class to ask my Spanish teacher if he knew my Spanish teacher from my high school since they are located five minutes apart. He doesn't, but he thinks his colleague does.
Anyway, at some point I mentioned that I had considering minoring in Spanish. He thought that was a great idea! He even said there were people he knew at UVA that he thought would be helpful for me. Hearing that was very encouraging.
I had given up on the idea since I hadn't taken Spanish in nearly ten years, but it is a requirement for my transfer degree so I took the placement test and decided to start at square one so I could move on more easily. I excelled in my previous Spanish classes, but then I had a few semesters off after birthing my youngest. I felt very intimidated and worried that I wouldn't understand what the teacher was saying (my last Spanish teacher was a female and I thought an easy grader). After getting in to class, I discovered I was not behind at all. In fact, I've found myself getting ahead. What a relief! It was even nicer to hear my teacher felt the same way. He said that I'm a natural and have a real aptitude for the language.
So far, I'm feeling the love in all my classes. Since I entered with low expectations of myself, I've quickly surpassed them in both math and Spanish, the two I worried most about. I'm starting to think that maybe I am as smart as I used to think. Either that or I'm not as dumb as I've worried I am. I'll take it. Point being, I guess I'm looking into a minor in Spanish with whatever major I choose.