“I’ve been running around in circles, pretending to be myself.”
I had a conversation with my dad this past weekend about how maturity and independence grows exponentially. In the past year and a half since starting college, I have seen this to be very true. Between the pandemic and moving halfway across the country for school, I’ve grown more than I thought was possible in such a short amount of time. I often wish I knew exactly who I am, but I am not even sure exactly who I want to be. This is a lifelong process, I know, and yet I catch myself wishing I could expedite it.
“Why would somebody do this on purpose when they could do something else?”
In Chinese Satellite, Phoebe Bridgers sings about her unsure attitude toward religion and her doubts of an afterlife. To me, this song represents something more: not being sure of who you are and desperately wanting to know how you feel and what you want, while also knowing that there is no way for you to rush this process.
“Drowning out the morning birds with the same three songs over and over.”
After what feels like far longer than just over two months, I’m finally getting into the routine of in-person college. In another two months, once the new semester begins, some of that routine will change again. Just as I felt like I was getting used to my life here, there is going to be yet another change with the new semester.
“I wish I wrote it, but I didn’t, so I learn the words.”
It will be nice to be home for Thanksgiving – back in the place where I grew up and where routine is easy to fall into. I also know that after a few days I will be more than ready to be back in Ann Arbor, Michigan, where I feel like I am my best version of myself. When I am at school, my potential for growth feels unlimited, both in a daunting and inspirational way, and I miss that feeling whenever I’m gone.
“Hum along ’til the feeling’s gone forever.”
Over the past year and a half, my living situation has changed, my friends have changed, and I have changed. I’m finally getting to a point where I feel more stable, but it is inevitable that something will come along and shake things up again. Change is a special, beautiful thing, for better and for worse. The present is not permanent. Good things pass, but then again, bad things pass, too. For me, it always comes back to the same thing: it all works out, given enough time and the right attitude.
Listen to Chinese Satellite here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AV-eEC6XyzA
Over the summer I got an unshakable idea for a new art piece. I have been tying my culture into my art for the past few years and wanted to continue the trend by doing a piece on Holi, the Festival of Colors. I had a clear vision of what I wanted to create and was luckily able to find a reference picture that fit my basic plan where I could improvise as much as I wanted. It was going to be the most technique-advanced piece that I had ever done and I had absolutely no expectations going into it. I genuinely did not believe that I would be able to pull it off but I went ahead and gave it a shot anyway. The result was overwhelmingly empowering. This piece was something that I really needed. After the terribly difficult time that school has been, moving out and living on my own for the first time, and feeling quite alone, completing this piece showed me that I am stronger than I give myself credit for and can achieve more than I expect myself to be able to. This is the power of art. It has a way of showing us who we are, who we can be, and what we can do. So this piece, titled The Festival of Colors, is my favorite piece to date. Done in colored pencil and acrylic paint, it details a woman dancing in ecstasy covered in the powdered color as is the tradition during this beautiful festival.
