Look with your eyes, not with your hands.


Such a minute fraction of this life do we live: so much is sleep, tooth-brushing, waiting for mail, for metamorphosis, for those sudden moments of incandescence: unexpected, but once one knows them, one can live life in the light of their past and the hope of their future.



A grad student muses on her life, film, friends, politics, reality televizzle, and music.

 
Introspective, Retrospective, New Perspective� All We Are Saying�

I sat down with the greatest of intentions and a full cup of coffee to write my MIT essay. I�ve done quite a bit of brainstorming already, but as it turns out, I am not ready to do it tonight. In order to get myself in the right mindset, I pulled out my books and notes from Kalb�s course in contemporary art last spring. As it turns out, I was an arrogant shit in that class and I continually disappoint myself with ignorance of many things contemporary. Usually I get by just fine because no one else seems to know any more. Looking back over the many unread chapters in the three books I have for the course, I wonder what I was doing with myself last year. This was actually a class that could have made an important impression � I remember being very frustrated with the abstract / theoretical / repetitive nature of the class, the fact that our instructor was �distracted,� the feeling that my thesis was more important - just the same, I see now that I put zero effort into that class. I am a little embarrassed. Finding these unread books makes me anxious to read them � maybe catch something on the second time around. With any luck, I�ll knock off a chapter or two tonight. I�ve had my fill of television, sadly yes the apocalyptical moment est arrive, I should turn my attention to more worthwhile endeavors, like reading art history texts revived from beyond the grave.

I�ve been thinking more and more about my impending retirement and thinking quite a bit about Ben Franklin�s plan for discipline and productivity. I need a few months of that, getting up early and getting the old mind and body back into fighting shape. I need to weed the bookshelf and pull out what�s important and be reminded why it is important. Memory is lousy, especially when it�s overfed. Time seems to be the most precious commodity to an overburdened college student, and now that I have lots of it on my hands, I need to drum up the motivation to put some worthwhile and solid thoughts into my head. If this is how I plan to tie down a living, I should get serious.

It�s weird � my sister and I always complain that there is nothing to do at home. I don�t know what manages to fill every minute of being at school, I guess it�s just the company and the assignments that make me feel busy, occupied, and stimulated. If I were a little more proactive, I probably wouldn�t crash as easily upon returning home � this certainly needs work � sustaining activity through different places over time. Lately, �time management� seems to be the crowning hallmark of a good education. When you really stop and think about it though, knowing how to spend your time, it�s one of the hardest things to tie down. When push comes to shove � you are the sum of your thoughts and action (some have argued that the self is defined as one or the other, but to make my point simply and move on, we�ll acknowledge the self as a combination of both). Now with the full weight of self-determining how I spend my time, my choices have consequence. Jenny Holzer says something about the downsides of freedom. It�s overwhelming, I prefer something suggestive, even something required. The idea of doing whatever you want, it certainly terrifies me more than excites. There is a fear of liberation, a certain condemnation that comes part and parcel with liberty. This is veering off somewhere strange� no one ever claimed this was easy.

Going to New York on Saturday to celebrate Christmas for the second or third time. This is the only real thing on my horizon, aside from getting out tomorrow and doing some exchanges for my mother. Then just one more week and back to school � and the rare, sweet, and long awaited opportunity to respond, �not long enough� when someone asks about your break.

posted by lmjasinski at 9:24 PM