Why am I always attracted to the wrong guys? For once I just want to find a guy that’s actually interested
Basically, just super happy. Nothing else to add.
This was really just an exceptionally good day, for starts.
It is so weird to me that I am an art history major, and yet I never talk about why I study it. I guess sometimes I feel like maybe I’m not worthy of the subject. While many of my peers have huge passions for the subject, and read so much about it, and study it in their free time, I do not. My reasons and motives for studying art history, and how I study it, and what I take from it, seem to be so different from theirs.
For example, I got into art history by accident. The first class I ever registered for in college was Art 101, which I thought was an art class, however was mistaken, and turned out to be a basic art history survey class. But I have literally taken an art history course every single term since then. I fell in love.
But not with the actual study of the history of art, but rather I fell in love with the feeling I get when I look at a piece of work, and see it for its methodology. I love seeing the brushstrokes. I love figuring out how the artist made his colors look the way they do. I love considering how the brush felt in the artists hand as he made the strokes and mixed his paints. Those are the things that give me rushes.
It sounds harsh, but I don’t care as much about remembering each artists name, or the specs of their life. I care about knowing what was going through his head as he made that pane of blue, or the dash of green. I want to know how it felt to paint his picture. That is what moves me.
Granted, I do believe it is of a great deal of importance to understand who the artist was, and what his relationship was with art, but it is not the most important thing to me. The most important thing to me is the actual art.
Which brings me to my second point of reason for continuing my study of art history. I found that as I was learning of various artists and their relationships with art, it had an impact on my own art. At the same time as learning about these artists, I changed so much artistically. I developed a bond with color and the fluidity of paint. I learned how to paint on canvas. And the connection I felt between my art and my knowledge, or maybe more accurately, my admiration for the art I was learning about, grew so apparent to me that I couldn’t let it go.
Art history to me isn’t about the history, it’s about the art, and how I relate to the art. It’s about inspiring me to create in a new way, or think about how I’m using my materials in a new way. That’s why I love it, and that’s why I can’t let it go.
I constantly find myself so unhappy in my art history classes, and so sidetracked much like other classes that I don’t relate to. I have never understood why I was even majoring in the subject if I hated it so much. I have found that it is not only math and writing professors that teach to a specific crowd, but so do my art history professors. I have yet to have met a single professor at PSU that is both an artist and an art historian, and that makes me so sad.
Sometimes it feels like I don’t belong in those classes because I don’t have the passion for the subject. But today I realized that maybe it isn’t me that is the problem. I might not have passion for learning the history of art, but maybe I just have a different passion, which I would describe as a passion for wanting to feel the art. It sounds so silly, but I just want to know how that artist felt, and I want to find out how I can feel that way, too.
It’s 2pm and I’ve already worked for 7 hours. Amazing. I have so much time left in my day to do whatever I want. I got myself a huge cup of coffee which makes me super happy. And my cat is laying on my bed being cute. All my laundry is done. And for the moment, there is no pressing homework needs. I feel the stress just rolling off my back and its fantastic. Did I mention there is sunshine pouring through my blinds?
There are very few things that could make my day better. I feel joyous today. And I feel blessed. So many exciting things are happening right now and I’m thankful. I love the fact that the weather is getting warmer, my waist is getting smaller, and my hair is getting longer.
Life is good.
There are quite possibly, a very small number of things in life that are more amazing than waking up to the sun shining on your face, the birds singing outside, and catching dew from the grass while walking out to get the paper.
Of course, then my fat kitten goes scouring up the side of the grapevine trellis just to meow at me and that pretty much makes it ten times better.
Soo I should probably go into more details. I had some craaazy dream last night where I was at this place with a huge building/house/whatever. And I was part of a class. The professor dude basically was making us all go and hide and then he started shooting up the place with a machine gun. What the hell? I don’t even understand. So we are all running around and trying to hide from the bullets, and I make my way to the roof. I thought I was safe, but then he is magically up on the roof, too, and sees me, and I try to jump behind this pillar thing, and I get low to the ground and try to hide under this cloth, but he finds me, and I’m begging not to shoot me, and he says, “sorry its the rules” and I got shot. Then it all starts over again. I’m sooo beyond confused at this dream.
I have actually been having a lot of dreams lately that have been kinda scary like that. The other night I was trapped and then some girl died, and then I remember making pottery in a pottery studio, that resembled the one from high school, but different. And I was trying to make a huge pot but I made the walls too thin… then next thing I know, I’m running away from some werewolf monster thing, and my dad was trying to like fight the wolf thing, and then I tried to get into this little craft store, but it was closed, and I ran up some stairs.. and that’s all I remember. So weird.
I think I’m going to try to start writing all my dreams in here. I dream vividly every night and used to keep a written record of a lot of them. It’s pretty interesting to see how many scenarios I use over and over in my dreams.. how many themes are reoccurring and how many landscapes I visit often. I think keeping a record of it would be pretty fascinating.
Had a dream last night that I was running around a huge building hiding from some guy shooting everyone down & I got shot. What the hell.
Stress level has gone way down. I think I made it over the hardest part of the term. I feel like even though everything is super overwhelming (having taken 18 credits) I sort of have it all under control. I got to register for classes today for spring term, which went well.
As far as life goes outside school, I think things are ok. I changed some things up and kind of had a good chat session with one of my co-workers and that helped a lot. I think also, finding things in my life that work, and running with them, and finding the ones that don’t work, and getting rid of them, has helped tons.
All in all, I’m ok. And getting better. That’s the best part. I love learning more about myself. I love knowing that I am ok even when it feels like everything might fall apart. And I love knowing things will always get better. Having the faith that things get better just makes life even more amazing. Ah! So happy!