Creative Writing 4745/The Sentence: Strategies For Writing. Final Essay/Project. 12/15/2021.
College, Career Trajectory: The Concentrated Elements of My Likes And Interests. I’m Trying To Attain An Undiluted Formula; One Not Diluted With Unessential Or Weakening Agents Which Will Reduce Its Potency.
I don’t get the third chapter of my math textbook, and it’s frustrating because it seems that the book is assuming that I know how to do math, when the reality is that I just know basic addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division. I’m not going into math after college, at any rate. I’m going into animated filmmaking, I think. I had always enjoyed visual art and animation. It puts me in a meditative state—creating drawings and then compiling them one after the other, into an allusion of fluid movement. And telling an entire narrative—sometimes a rather vital and beneficial one—through that same technique, is rather enriching. It gives me a strong sense of fulfillment, and purpose. Though I had drawn for fun, in the past—though I had created still images and stand-alone illustrations many times before, in the past; and I had experimented with animation, too, incorporating moving graphics into the projects at hand—it had only recently occurred to me to go into animation as my main employment, for the future. I mean, I had always planned to go into illustration, as side-income, alongside my main line of work. But the animation arts idea had never fully blossomed in me, or taken hold of me—I’d never seriously considered it until recently. I actually wasn’t considering the visual arts at all, as possible full-time employment. I had thought “no—impossible, with a capital “I.” And so, I never considered that I should become an animation artist. The idea had never really crossed my mind.
Before I settle on anything—and no one has one single destiny, perhaps; everyone can flourish and find fulfillment in several different areas, I guess—before I start interning at animation companies, I want to get a feel for how it generally is, or how it can generally be. And so I’m going to job shadow a friend of a friend who works at an animated film studio. I don’t know what to expect, and I don’t know if I will genuinely like the environment or the overall career, with all its components and necessary requirements. But I feel I have to be proactive and take tangible steps towards my own future. And so I will go there and job shadow, and if I like it, I’ll likely decide to apply for formal internships, in the industry. And I actually think I’ll probably end up appreciating the work immensely, though I often feel shy about collaborating with others and working together towards a finished project, like an animated production. I guess every line of work and every career has positive aspects and negative aspects to it, and one just needs to work around any discomfort that she feels regarding the negative elements. And she needs to make sure that those negative aspects truly are small, unimportant stressors, and not such a hindrance to her that it outweighs the joy of performing the actual work, or the main tasks that characterize the job overall, or in essence.
After I realized that “life is like a box of chocolates,” in that “you never what you’re gonna get”—Forrest Gump was always a really profound movie to me, and Mrs. Gump was my favorite character, after Jenny and Forrest—after understanding life’s unpredictable nature, I realized that a person truly needs to do what she feels is best for her specific situation, and overall life. This is mainly because misfortunes and other side-trips can really knock one off course, and one doesn’t want to be knocked off of a course that she never truly wanted to be on in the first place—or, anyway. This realization is what helped me understand that I should probably go into the practicing arts as my main career, after graduation. I definitely should not try to go into journalism, or editing; nonprofit grant writing, or fundraising; program coordination, or program management; or human services, like therapy, education, or social work; or anything like that. I shouldn’t feel obliged or indebted towards any particular field, or line of work. How silly can a human being be. What made me think that any line of work, or any human activity in particular, or any cause or movement, was lacking “someone like me?” Who am I, in the first place? “I’m nobody! Who are you? Are you nobody, too? Then there’s a pair of us!” That’s from Emily Dickinson’s poem—an immensely profound thesis, and poem. It’s one of my most favorite literary pieces—it might be a manifesto of sorts, an ultimate expression or meditation on being “nobody.”
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It’s immensely challenging to concentrate and to be proactive and involved in one’s own studies—in one’s academic career—when she feels that domestic abuse and violence is being carried out, or inflicted. It’s actually hard to live life in a normal manner—let alone to succeed academically—when such personal difficulties and extraneous circumstances are occurring. Abuse is often a private phenomenon; there is no seeable or visible evidence of it. It happens behind closed doors; in people’s homes, and private quarters. And so the difficulty with getting victims the proper help is that in most cases, she herself has to voice the concern or the severe problem, or else no help is coming her way. Not at all, actually. Few people are mind-readers or psychics, in the sense—vis a vis having knowledge of people’s personal lives. In regards to the domestic abusers, some suffer from genuine mental illnesses and disorders. Others actually do know much better, and they should “stop and desist.” But they actually get a thrill and a sense of satisfaction from their abuse. And so that is what makes it hard for the abuse to stop, or to discontinue, or be ended. I myself listen to music to drown out the loud realities of life. My memories from the past are a mixture of good and bad, as everyone’s are—and though I don’t have many friends or confidants, my favorite colors swirl around in my mind and remind me of the beaches and fields I visited when I was much younger. Art and music are inextricably linked, I’ve heard—colors, shapes, melodies, and words, and all of their manifestations and messages. | I feel that since I had opted for higher ed, and college, I should have either done a program in animation, or in painting. Or in music; I could have done an associates or a bachelors in performing arts, with an emphasis in orchestra, and instrument mastery. I could have been playing in shows, by now. It likely would have helped me with my confidence; I might have been a highly confident woman by now, instead of one deathly afraid of others. I likely would have made a few friends or colleagues in the orchestra I would have belonged to. It would have been soothing and a real source of joy and comfort for me, in my life. I was in choir in middle school and high school, and I remember it was one of my favorite classes. Art and choir, and aspects of language arts—the free-writing/creative writing aspect—were my favorite subjects, in middle school and high school. When I was in elementary school, my favorite subjects were art, reading, and I guess, social studies/history.
It’s kind of an extraneous thing—one that is beyond the difficulties of life, and its actual problems, and oppressive structures—but, music and art do help. So does literature, of course. And so do theater and dance. I’ve noticed that music itself usually helps me most when I’m already in a good mood, or in good spirits. And so I turn it on in the hopes of gaining some more insight and self-help, and understanding. I’ve noticed that listening to music doesn’t seem to benefit me when I’m feeling panicked or scared, or highly distressed, or otherwise upset. Then again, piano music, and guitar melodies, and flutes—instrumentals—seem to help me at all times, actually. Even when I’m agitated, or feeling down. And so maybe I truly do have a strong connection to and inclination towards music. It just depends on what kind of music is appropriate or helpful at each specific circumstance, I guess. I’ve hardly heard a song that I didn’t like, even if it took me multiple plays to understand what the instruments and the melody—and the tune and rhythm, and etc.—are truly saying. Many a times, it seems that certain chords or choruses or refrains pose a series of points, or strong statements; at other times, the entire composition is an undulating piece which conveys multiple, nuanced messages; still other times, the song is an assurance, or reassurance—it’s soothing and kindly. I feel that the various notes, themselves—whether high-pitched or low-pitched, prolonged, or staccato—communicate certain messages, as well.
In the past, I kept thinking to myself that I had to decipher and understand what was happening and going on in my life before I could live my life in an optimal way. But there’s likely nothing to decipher or understand, though. The reason why I like the Anne of Green Gables series—especially the book about Rilla, Anne’s daughter—is because I see certain parallels between Rilla’s life and what I myself have come to notice about human difficulties, and growth. Spiritual growth is often signaled by the process of acquiring positive traits, and shedding negative ones. None of which would be truly possible without life, and its misfortunes. I feel as though my discomfort with the various obstacles in my life have had much to do with my own warped understanding of how things should be. When in reality, they shouldn’t be or not be anything, actually.
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I feel that if I am to go into the animation industry, and the broader film and video industry—I want to do children’s films, motivational videos, educational animation, and explanatory videos that highlight certain people/public figures, places and cultures, historical movements and phenomena, and etc.—if I am to do that, then I am obliged to get into work mentality mode. I am obliged to get ready to work, most days of my life. I’ve been so used to not working and to being unemployed for long stretches of time that I know for a fact that I will be a fish out of water, with a new job after graduation. This is so even with animation; a line of work that I greatly admire and look up to. I’m going to have to take on several nitty gritty internships, either paid or unpaid, and be quite serious about them, and truly give them my best possible effort and undivided attention, if I am to “make it,” in the industry. So there’s gonna have to be an intensely productive and effective–and perhaps quite long–transitional phase, during which I learn as much as I can. And achieve nearly meditative awareness of what I’m doing, during that time. Near-meditative awareness might be necessary for me if I’m going to make it in life, period. I have a tendency to not be fully focused, and to not give things my best effort.
I’ve actually tried out a few different internships in the past, in fields that are more “traditional” and well-known than animation arts. But they didn’t suit me, in the slightest. For example, I’ve tried teaching an elementary school class. Well, it was a class at a summer camp, actually. A day camp in my hometown, in northern Virginia. Through that experience, I’d noticed rather quickly that I lack confidence in my authority and command. Moreover, I’d actually forgotten that I’m not talkative or communicative, or the type to be deeply involved with other people, at all. And so I don’t know why I had ever imagined myself as a classroom teacher. To be fair, I had actually tutored one-on-one for some time in the past, and it had went rather well—I had enjoyed my time with the kids, the students. I had tutored at an after-school care center in my area, working with a new student, every week. Each tutoring session lasted one hour. And so I suppose I thought I could handle classroom teaching, by extension; I thought I could handle it without much trouble. But the two are completely different experiences, in my opinion; they’re like night and day. I don’t know why I was as clueless about the dichotomy as I was.
Another experience I’d had was that I had looked into grant writing, to a significant extent. I took intro to grant writing in college, and did well in it. But I did not enjoy it as a field, or subfield. Or as an academic subject, I should say. I had crafted a grant proposal as per the final project of the course, and I received positive feedback on it from the professor. But the ins and outs of grant writing hardly clicked with me, even in that introductory and academic format. I’d also met and talked with the grant writer at a local mental health nonprofit organization, in my area—the same nonprofit that I had been volunteering with, for several years—and I left the informal meet-up with the feeling that it maybe wasn’t for me. Also; I’d researched the field and profession of grant writing for a project I had completed for my Advanced Writing Composition class, as a junior in college. The assignment was to select a career that you are interested in—to select the career that you plan to go into after college, in fact—and to research it in a systematic way, and to write an academic report on the societal implications of the career, and on what the specific line of work can or should do for wider society. I chose “grant writing” as the subject of my research paper, being oriented towards that profession. I got an A on the paper. But the whole thing seems meaningless these days, since I have lost interest in grant writing, fundraising, and nonprofit organization work, in general.
The third career-oriented activity I had tried was in editing. I was on the editing team at my college’s literary magazine for a few months, and I also took on several online positions with different online publications. But I quickly realized that editing is a very communicative and reading-intensive position. I think you often communicate with senior editors, and your peers on staff. And if you’re a book editor, you revise full-length books to the best of your ability, and you must carry through with all of the tasks related to that process. I have difficulty communicating, and difficulty concentrating. And so I eventually left the idea of book and magazine editing. This particular career aspiration had dissipated with great regret, because this was the possibility that I was most partial to, in fact. It was what I had initially went to college for, starting my very first year—perhaps my first semester—at junior college, at age 17. But I eventually decided to let that dream go. Permanent employment as an editor is rather not for people like me. It requires prolonged concentration, and grit and determination—reading through all those manuscripts and essays. And working with authors in an effective way, and completing all the required tasks of working at a publishing company, or magazine, etc.
Finally, I also did a little bit of graphic design; creating advertising material and social media cover pictures for several different small nonprofits and groups. I think the graphic design positions I did were the most suitable ones for me, out of all four internships/immersion experiences I had done. But it wasn’t quite my size, either. Even graphic design wasn’t quite my thing, I think. I’ve heard that one shouldn’t settle for less than her true niche; she shouldn’t settle for something less than her true preference, and partiality.
I think the aforementioned four areas of interest are the main four that I can say I have truly explored and interned in, and methodically investigated, to a significant extent. Teaching, grant writing, editing, and graphic design. And I think it’s safe to say that if those four never worked out for me, then little else will. Everything else is similar, in terms of effort you have to put into it, and perhaps ultimate incompatibility with me. I’m beginning to believe that visual art and motion graphics is indeed the only remaining channel, for me. I mean, visual art and motion graphics is different from the various other things I had tried, in that I feel I’m much more partial to it, and much more at ease with it. It’s likely one of the only things that is not a complete and total hindrance, for me. Visual art was always one of the only activities that had never felt like a chore or cognitive burden, to me. I feel I usually produce decent visual communication, fairly easily. Editorial illustrations, children’s illustration, animation, graphic design, product packaging, and etc. But as aforementioned, it had simply never occurred to me to take it on as a career.
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Throughout my undergraduate studies, I took courses from a few different fields, I think. For example, I took some courses that are in the social sciences, or its peripherals. I took intro to the nonprofit sector, intro to comparative politics, intro to statistical methods, intro to grant writing, intro to museum studies, and something called Citizenship In A Multicultural Society, which I simply refer to as A Multicultural Society. These six classes were more in line with the social sciences than any other classes I did. They taught me about certain critical institutions and phenomena in society, and they introduced certain theoretical knowledge which will benefit me as a member of society, I guess. I also took a group of classes from the communications department; intro to communication theory, intro to mass/media communication, intro to intercultural communication, and interpersonal communication. I took writing classes; poetry writing, intermediate poetry writing, intro to creative writing, nonfiction writing, and writing composition I, II, and III. I also took grammar, and linguistics. And I took English literature classes; namely modern American literature, postmodern nonfiction literature, intro to literary theory, and intro to English literature. And so I took some stuff in the social sciences; in communication studies; writing and language; and English literature. I also took all the gen eds that were required of me. I chose two psychology courses for the ‘social/behavioral sciences’ requirements; I had to take a couple of history classes; math and science/quantitive reasoning and natural sciences; and etc., etc. I think that when you’re a liberal studies/liberal arts major, then the gen ed requirements you take can only count if they’re separate from the classes in the liberal studies vein. That is; on top of all of the gen eds, you have to take on one or two classes from several different departments, to round off your liberal studies major. I was an English major over at the physical campus of George Mason uni before I transferred to an online bachelors completion program in liberal studies.
While I was in school, I created a fair amount of poems, personal essays, drawings, illustrative designs, pieces that might be passable as graphic designs, paintings, and animated videos, during my down time. This self-directed work—and my sense of fulfillment and enrichment with it, and my confidence in my ability to be diligent about this type of work for the rest of my life—was what led to me to decide on the artist’s way. It was what led me to decide on the creative arts as my profession. And so my self-directed work—my creative efforts—benefited me a thousand times more than my college classes, my internships, and my volunteer work, combined. “You might not get a lot out of your classes—it’s a highly individualized experience, and there are a million and one extraneous factors that might hinder your performance—but fulfillment and joy often don’t come from mandatory coursework, anyway.” Another variation of this idea is: “I didn’t get much out of college, but life and its complexities often aren’t tied to or dependent on a university building, anyway.” “Didn’t get a lot out of classes, but spiritual understanding and even vocational advancement—career advancement—don’t have to come from classes, anyway.” I’ve heard this general saying and idea several times before, in my life. I was an indifferent student to the nth degree, at any rate; apathetic. I didn’t care very much about it, and it had started to become intensely frustrating and psychologically torturous, by junior year—by third year. It was mental prison, in many ways. Higher education (college, undergrad) was mental prison, of the purest kind. They say knowledge is the gateway to freedom, but forced knowledge (or forced studying, and forced achievement) is forced labor—nothing less. This feeling of enclosure and constriction is especially prominent when one is drifting, during her college years–when she hasn’t decided what she wants to do with her life. Why am I here? Why am I in this academic program–this humanities and social sciences program? Why didn’t I choose visual design and visual communications, instead–graphic design, multimedia arts, and etc? Then again; writing, analysis, and reading comprehension, and a broad understanding of certain societal phenomena, is indeed beneficial for book editing, for example. It’s beneficial for editing for a political press, a feminist press, an environmental press, and similar types of publishing houses. This type of language-based, liberal arts-based education is also quite beneficial for grant writing for a nonprofit; for teaching, to some extent; for working as a content writer for an organization in the likes of a social services agency or similar institution; and etc.
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I’m beginning to believe that visual art and motion graphics is indeed the only remaining channel, for me. I mean, visual art and motion graphics is different from the various other things I had tried, in that I feel I’m much more partial to it, and much more at ease with it. It’s likely one of the only things that is not a complete and total hindrance, for me. Visual art was always one of the only activities that had never felt like a chore or cognitive burden, to me. I feel I usually produce decent visual communication, fairly easily. Editorial illustrations, children’s illustration, animation, graphic design, product packaging, and etc. But as aforementioned, it had simply never occurred to me to take it on as a career. | Graphic design and animation in particular can get a little bit technical and not as creative-freedom based as illustration and visual art. But it’s still visual communication, rather than verbal communication, from what I am able to gauge and understand from both my past work, and from observing what others are saying and doing, in their own spheres. So, it’s not large amounts of text that one has to decipher—nor is it inherently based on communicating with people from a revolving door of groups; trying to solve a community-based problem or an executive or local problem. I think graphic designers, animators, and other visual communicators—and all creative professionals—can offer a lot towards the movement for justice and peace, around the world. But at the same time, one of the nice things about visual communication—one of the more appreciable elements—is that it doesn’t have to offer anything, any idea, which can be implemented or adopted in the outside world. It’s not beholden to the idea of change-making; it’s not beholden to anything, in fact. And that’s not to say that it doesn’t contain persuasive, motivational, educational, and revolutionary messaging, and urgings. But it needn’t do that; it’s not necessary. | I think I’m going to try to go into both graphic design and animation, now. And I’m not going to feel bad that I’m not going into nonprofit work, teaching, community organizing, or the more human-centered things of life. I tried to do something in that vein during undergrad, and suffered because of it. I have cognitive problems and severe introverted tendencies, anyway (and schizoaffective disorder, depressive type), and so maybe the community-help career idea was always unrealistic, for me. It was always something I would have struggled with. I’m kind of relieved that I don’t have to mould myself to a specific skill-set and career, and overall life, now. I can simply choose that skill-set and career and overall life that fits itself towards me–I don’t have to change my own disposition and ingrained weaknesses and my personality in order to fit into a particular field, or line of work.
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The first thing I like to learn about other people is where they believe they have previously been in terms of life circumstances and life contexts; this knowledge of how they understand their own past helps me to sense where they are now, and where they’re potentially headed, in future. I personally did not mean to do half of the things I did, in my life—I feel that half of the things I did in my life, and half of the things that had happened to me/befallen me, were mistakes or errors, more or less. But I’ve heard that the more confusing and error-ridden life is for you, and the more all the doors are closed off, and the more complicated the path becomes—the more you’re on the right path towards understanding yourself and the world around you. This is mainly because difficulties and lack of any openings, or lack of any help or guidance, is often the quintessential substance that gives you true understanding. It’s one of them, at least. I feel that many of my struggles and pains were due to this very phenomenon of not feeling that I was on the right path, and not feeling that I had any help, or paths to success. At the same time, I’ve internalized that it’s all good, and that it’s all part of the journey, and experience. I don’t really regret anything, I guess. I suppose that if I could go back and change one thing about my journey—especially related to the collegiate and extracurricular things I had done and tested out, and tried—it would probably be to simply push a bit harder, and to try my best, a little more. I.e., my one wish in retrospect might be to have made a better effort with my studies, and my activities; my coursework, internships/volunteer work, and my creative work. Beyond that, I don’t think I regret anything, that badly. I’m going to have to re-navigate and re-direct now, since I have my eye on animation arts and graphic design, now. I’ll give myself a grace period of four or five years or so, working odd jobs, before I get into animation and design.
Post script: I suppose one possible moral (or lesson) that can be extracted from this essay is that I had went to college and studied a writing and literature program under the impression that I would enter into employment as a person proficient with language and written communication skills, like writing, reading comprehension, editing, and etc. I thought that my liberal studies training, which I’d also acquired, would also benefit me on the job–I thought having an understanding of certain critical phenomena and institutions in society would help propel me forward into a certain community-oriented career. But I ended my college years with the belief that that particular type of field—the language and social sciences thing, and the day-to-day tasks that characterize it—are actually far from what I am actually comfortable with. It’s far from who I am and what I do best, as a worker. | The only reason I had went to college and majored in English literature (and liberal studies) was to become a book editor, admittedly. A book editor for a political publishing house, or a social issues-inclined press. “A political or social issues-inclined press” meaning; “a company that publishes books that are prominent in their discussion of certain critical topics, in life.” Critical topics like environmental issues, feminist topics, poverty/socioeconomic affairs, and etc. I had also considered making good use of my language-related skills (and the small amount of knowledge I had gained in the humanities and social sciences) to become a grant writer, content writer, teacher, and similar things, as aforementioned. I even thought about utilizing my acquired education to go into entry-level paralegal work, assistant librarianship, and nonprofit administration, to some extent. It’s truly confusing to figure out what you really want to do; and it’s even more discouraging when you sense in the recesses of your heart that you are not really cut out for any language-based or liberal arts-based type of work. Honestly, looking back at it now, I should have done a degree in visual communication; design, animation, and things of that nature. But by 80 or 90 credits into my literature and liberal studies degree, it was too late to truly switch my major. I was a terribly slow student, too; I was slow to take in the reading and writing assignments, and do them, and get them handed in. I was part-time, for a long while. It seemed to make little sense to start a brand new degree program in visual design and communication, by that time–by the credit hours and years I had already put into my writing and liberal arts program. | I honestly think that the absolute biggest favor I can do myself is to let go of the idea that I myself, as an individual person, need to do a certain, specific thing with my life. I need to let go of the idea that I need to do what I refer to as human-centered, humanistic, community-helping type of work. Mind you, this very field is what I had always wanted to eventually be part of. I suppose I had sort of fallen by the wayside a little during both high school and undergrad, but I had always had the community-help idea at the back of my mind—that basic aspiration had never left me. I had always thought “yeah, of course; of course once I graduate college, I’m gonna do something to help others—something really real, and tangible.” That “real and tangible” type of career presented itself to me as editing, nonprofit writing, teaching, paralegal work, administrative work, and etc., as aforementioned. But I have severe problems with concentrating on written material, and my oral communication is at times equally bad. When I say ‘difficulties with written material,’ I mean difficulty with producing written content, and with taking in and comprehending literature or text. Add in a pending deadline of any date in the future, and I’m already a lost cause, in that respect; I’m already not going to get it handed in. My oral communication, or my speaking skills, are also bad, in my opinion. And so I can’t really do verbal type of work, whether text-based or speaking-based. And I think that’s why I had struggled so much during undergrad. The very major that I was in was the exact wrong type of thing to be in if you have problems with reading, writing, and speaking. But in my own assessment of things, there’s always visual communication. There’s always the option to go into visual language and pictorial representations of things, which I’d always found interesting and enriching, in many ways. I’d always had a deep fascination and happy interest in visual language—in visual communication, and how things are visually depicted and portrayed. E.g., through design, illustration, animation, motion graphics, and etc. It’s a bit sad that it took me a program in writing and liberal studies to come to such a conclusion, but so be it. It often takes a certain type of deep exposure to something to know that it’s really not for you. | I think if I really put my mind to it—if I take some continuing education classes in design and animation/multimedia, and if I take on several different internships and really give them 100% of my effort—I’ll be on my way to becoming a bona fide designer and multimedia artist. You just have to put yourself in positions where you’ll find success, and a sense of fulfillment and diligence for the work, itself. Above all; life knocks you down over and over again; every day is a struggle, for multiple reasons. If you have some sort of condition or illness, this struggle is amplified perhaps three-fold, or more. But you just move on; you roll with the punches. It’s just water off a duck’s back; you never want to let anything bother you. I think I heard that 3/4 of life in general is formulated in your own mind. A quarter of it is stuff that actually happens, and the remaining 3/4ths is simply what you make of that; how you perceive it, or think of it. So, only 1/4ths are the events that actually happen. How you subsequently feel about it and react over the long term comprises 3/4ths, or the remainder of how life is. Some would advise that it’s all ok, everything is ok. And to not go down the road of thinking that there’s anything particularly wrong with one’s own life, especially when one is actually doing her best to be successful in her own capacity; and especially when s/he practices do-no-harm, or peaceableness and quietude–non-violence, non-aggression. | This essay began with math, and it ended with math. That’s fitting; arithmetic’s impartial, and it tells the truth of the matter, in question.
Epilogue || It’s a bit sad; I had always imagined myself in the thick of the action, in the epicenter of the struggle for justice and societal advancement—or at least at the peripherals. But I’ve realized that you can always be there in spirit—not everyone is meant to be there physically, or literally. I can bet my life on the wager that not everyone is meant to be there physically or literally. Also, I was raised to believe that god values your character and your adherence to the principle of do-no-harm; in no way does he care whether a specific individual goes into social change work, or not. That’s not what he’s requesting or asking of individuals; of everyone. I think I’ve always had this basic understanding intact, despite my swerving far into belief in a life dedicated to social activism. For some reason, this latter conviction and philosophical view had preoccupied my mind for the past six or seven years. But I have no true ability or potential for a life dedicated to social change; I’m mentally impaired, and I frankly don’t really want to, anyway. I like music, visual art and design, theater, dance, film, and probably literature, above all. I am what I am; everyone is who s/he is. There’s no point in beating yourself up about who or what you are. It’s much more productive to take what you have or what you are good at, and try to build yourself a life that you can be stable and happy with. When I think of “what I want to do with my life,” I often connect it with the concept of “home”; of homecoming, and of returning back to a place of meaning and meaningfulness–even in the very work or profession I do. I want my work to be an extension of my temperament, and of how I see things. I’m actually supremely glad that I chose the artist’s way, and that I chose the creative path, which is often in audacious clash with all of the difficulty and cumbersomeness of life. I chose it out of all the various fields that are before us, too. We all have to choose something or another; I’m glad I chose art. I found a way out of the turbulence and negativities of life; my creative work and my religion are my ways out. Some people feel compelled to stay with the turbulence and negativities, and deeply solve and fix them–which is guaranteed to bring a certain harshness and pain to themselves, no doubt. Others have no ability for that, for various different reasons. Everyone’s equally important, though; it doesn’t matter what you do. “Just do it well, and be diligent about it, and try to help others through that same field or line of work, if you can.” This seems to be the best piece of advice that I have come across so far, regarding the issue of what to do with your life. And I think being a homemaker and caretaker of one’s children is as equally important as anything else, too–if not more important than certain lines of work that are out there. Unpaid labor isn’t less valuable. Everyone’s equally important; every step counts, every action counts.
It seems that the last day of one’s life is often linked to previous experiences one had had, as well as the conscience efforts s/he made towards living a virtuous life. I also think much of life is a push-and-pull between striving, exerting some sort of effort towards something–and simply being happy with whatever happens; living happily. I think this element constitutes a major part of life. I.e., the interchange between making an effort towards some end or goal–whether short-term or long-term; and (then) simply remembering to be happy, and not letting yourself slide into depression and fear, and etc. This is something I’ve noticed; I’ve noticed that (much of) life is based on exerting one’s effort towards some end, or another–today it could be xyz set of goals, and things to get done; but there are likely more serious, long-term goals, too–and (2), keeping content, and truly trying to be in good spirits. It’s a “tension,” or a dance between those two states, or phenomena. In regards to the second one; I’ve noticed that nothing will truly cheer you up unless you are open to receiving that grace, and are willing to be ok and in a good mood. It’s actually immensely challenging to get anything done if you truly are emotionally pained, and suffering.
-this essay, minus the post script and the epilogue, was written for Creative Writing 4745/The Sentence: Strategies For Writing. University of Iowa, Fall 2021. Prof. Tino Zhang. This class was taken as an elective/option for my liberal studies major; liberal studies with a writing and arts emphasis.
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