a vessel filled to the brim yet always empty

Alternative title: romance is dead

I’ve realized the problem with myself. My problem is that I want to be too many things at once, but I have so many things I already need to be, and not enough of myself to do it all. Instead, I am a half formed glob of artiste, yes i did put an e at the end of that, writer (thought dumpster), cellist, scientist, student, teacher (of little kids, at least), daughter, cousin, friend, human

Because, after all, this all brings us back to the age-old question: who am I? This is certainly not the only time I’ve thought about it. My dad is driving me back from school and I’m staring out the window, thinking that a part of these neighborhoods is forever embedded in me and how wonderful yet terrifying that is. That all the experiences I’ve ever had have left an imprint on my being and that everyone carries what is around them. That maybe globalization isn’t so great because then we’d all be so similar, and life would be so dull if all we ever heard were our own thoughts back and back again.

The latest essay I read for my english class was an essay by Brian Doyle called Joyas valoduras. (Not too sure about that spelling or punctuation but that’s how I say it in my head, at least…) That essay was confusing to read. Yes, it was beautiful. I appreciated the sweeping view of all life forms, and upon closer examination the parallel structure between paragraphs and sentences and phrases and words, even. Yet it was hard for me to grasp the crux of Doyle’s purpose in writing the piece; was it to pay tribute to the exquisiteness or fragility or variety of life, or was he simply pouring his own thoughts down on paper, suddenly astounded by constellations in his mind? And how did it all connect to each heart being alone, because we cannot bear the closeness of another person inside?

P.S. regarding the title, I am conflicted. I like the sentiment, but “yet” doesn’t read as effortlessly as it should, and “but” is much too clunky. Which one is preferable to you?

action-deprived

If I could tell my younger self one thing, it would be to just do it. The consequences can only be so dire, and when it comes to amazing opportunities, you can’t just let them go by (like I did.)

both my mom and my cello teacher have said that I think too much- that instead of thinking, I would do better to act instinctively. I hold back too much, I’ve got too many reservations to completely let go.

case 1:

2 years ago I switched cello teachers. I did this because my bow hold was not working and my teacher at the time wasn’t helping much. the biggest thing I’ve been working on since then is bringing out a bigger, fuller sound from my cello and myself. the bow hold issue is only one component of this. actually, the technical issues as a whole make up only one component. the other is getting past mental barriers. she keeps telling me, “music is something we share. it’s great that your music is so personal, but wouldn’t it be even better if you could share it with the audience?” after all, that’s what music is about, isn’t it? so I’ve also been working on being more open about the emotions I try to express through my playing. you have to exaggerate some things for it to carry out into the void. music is also an ephemeral thing: once the sound is released, there’s no going back. so everything about that sound has to be done before it’s released, and there really isn’t room for hesitation. you just do it.  I’m working on it.

 

case 2:

I was planning on reapplying to a private school this year. since September, I’d been planning to reapply. I even sat for the interview (which, granted, wasn’t very good.) but as the school year dragged on, I became less and less sure about applying to the school. I would tell myself that it’s a good school, it’s closer to your home than your local high school!, it’s so much better than the public school, you’ll be with your best friends from middle school, your parents will be really proud, and college applications won’t be as stressful. there were so many reasons to at least apply, and I really regret not doing so now. I’d like to think I would have had a chance- after all, I’m a very well-rounded, somewhat accomplished, and friendly candidate.

anyways, as time dragged on, Christmas break passed. I was still missing the teacher recommendations, and the deadline was the second of February. my math teacher has always been busy, and I wanted to meet her after school instead of sending an email, as it would be more sincere and she’d take my request more seriously. (my math teacher is also pretty intimidating, yet still a good teacher.) I never succeeded in catching her after class or after school; I never worked up the nerve to write an email. then, one day in class about halfway through January, she told students in my enriched geometry class who had asked for recommendations to meet her after class. I didn’t go; I never asked. I took that as the official ‘too late,’ and basically gave up.

I’m really disappointed in myself, and I think my mom is, too.

If I could tell my younger self one thing, it would be to just do it. The consequences can only be so dire, and when it comes to amazing opportunities, you can’t just let them go by (like I did.)

Writing this makes me feel old; I’m really not. I hope in a few years I’ll have gotten better at not putting off decisions and just doing things of my own accord. That’s my self-development plan.

Also, a post-Easter resolution: go to sleep before midnight. Seriously.

 

 

This post isn’t really of interest to anyone, and I realize my audience isn’t super big- I don’t necessarily want one. This blog is more about me ranting and possibly (?) gaining some interhuman interaction from anonymous people.

if the latter isn’t fulfilled, I’ll still be happy with having an archive of hundreds of rants. that would be cool.

 

if you’re still reading, wow. Thanks! please comment 🙂