O HAI I EXIST ON LJ

Jan 31, 2012 18:17

Just thought I'd get back to blogging again, because I've always felt it's one of the major ways through which I relieve stress. And that's suddenly important again in light of my mega-headache yesterday (I puked everything I ate too), which the GP diagnosed as "too much stress". I'm a bit dubious of this, but oh well, I guess I do tend to be high-strung and there's just so many things to be worried about these days...

That's the thing about doing what you enjoy for a living -- it blurs the line between work and leisure, almost dangerously. I'm taking two Literature modules this semester, both of which cover disgustingly long 19th century novels. Ordinarily I'm perfectly okay with this. I still read like a demon and last week I plowed through two-thirds of Jane Eyre in one morning, but there's also an element of pushing oneself that adds a certain tension to what would otherwise be a pleasurable hobby.



I'd like to admire attractive people in period costume without having to do an in-depth analysis of the translation of novel to film.
Anyway it seems like this month I've been living in the 19th century, first, reading Austen and Brontë and Dickens and watching the film and telly adaptions, and second, drowning in post-impressionist art. Or, my class modern art history. The other day I finally visited the delightful "Dreams and Reality" exhibition at the National Museum, highlights of which include Van Gogh's Starry Night (Over the Rhone), Monet's Woman with a Parasol, Facing Right, Degas's Dancers Climbing the Stairs, and Cézanne's The Card Players. But oddly enough, the painting that fascinated me the most was Cézanne's Portrait de Madame Cézanne.



There's a particular serenity and calm to the painting that I could stare at for ages. Pity it's not the best gallery -- there's nothing quite like the Art Institute of Chicago, which I think my visit there a couple of years ago was what prompted me to take up this class in the first place.

Come to think of it, the real source of my stress isn't class. It's everything else. FYP. Job-hunting-slash-what-are-you-going-to-do-after-graduation. CCA activities. Church stuff. It's as if I'm trying to live as hard as I can before resigning myself to the monotony of working life, which will probably give me even more tension headaches than I have already. But yeah, typing all this out is kinda therapeutic. I should do this more often.

university

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