(no subject)
“Erika the Artist.” She disregards all inhibitions, boundaries, expectations, and logic, only to follow the music of her amorous heart. She writes until her fingers wither into decaying appendages from the familiar scrawl of her pen. She dances until her feet are rubbed raw, revealing pink, vile flesh. “Erika the Artist” cries, loves, learns, and will surely die in a heap of impulsive, creative fervor. She wants the impossible, and I have surrendered myself to her seduction. Her promises of artistic freedom, theatrical expression, and an intangible fulfillment of the soul entice me. I know this and only this--I was meant for the stage.
"Apply Ivy League with this essay." - Mr. B.
I don't know anymore. I thought I had college figured out...Irvine for undergraduate, Yale for my M.F.A. But Ivy League as an undergrad? I can't afford it, and I don't think I'm ready to leave California. Badrigian thinks I won't thrive in the UC system, that I need to surround myself with the "future leaders of tomorrow" in one of the most prestigious academic institutions in the nation. The label of prestige does little to turn me on. I don't care the name of my school, nor the prestige of certain professor. An undergraduate education is seemingly identical regardless of the school. I'm not Alisa. I don't need the Harvard/Princeton/Yale acceptance letter to prove my intellectual and artistic worth.
But of course, as soon as I got home...yale.edu, nyu.edu, princeton.edu and downloaded the apps. Why? To please a teacher I love to hate? To prove my intelligence to my peers? To piss off my mother? I don't know if such a school is right for me...then again, I ruled out private schools long ago because of my fiscal situation.
But maybe NYU would fit me. The Tisch School of Arts offers conservatory training as well as a liberal arts education. That does sound like a dreamworld, but I cannot get past the $50,000 a year tuition...not to mention living on the other side of the country.
I know, I'm boring everyone with more college talk...but I'm obsessed. I wish college decisions were more like Harry Potter's sorting hat. Then I wouldn't have to stress a bit.
"Apply Ivy League with this essay." - Mr. B.
I don't know anymore. I thought I had college figured out...Irvine for undergraduate, Yale for my M.F.A. But Ivy League as an undergrad? I can't afford it, and I don't think I'm ready to leave California. Badrigian thinks I won't thrive in the UC system, that I need to surround myself with the "future leaders of tomorrow" in one of the most prestigious academic institutions in the nation. The label of prestige does little to turn me on. I don't care the name of my school, nor the prestige of certain professor. An undergraduate education is seemingly identical regardless of the school. I'm not Alisa. I don't need the Harvard/Princeton/Yale acceptance letter to prove my intellectual and artistic worth.
But of course, as soon as I got home...yale.edu, nyu.edu, princeton.edu and downloaded the apps. Why? To please a teacher I love to hate? To prove my intelligence to my peers? To piss off my mother? I don't know if such a school is right for me...then again, I ruled out private schools long ago because of my fiscal situation.
But maybe NYU would fit me. The Tisch School of Arts offers conservatory training as well as a liberal arts education. That does sound like a dreamworld, but I cannot get past the $50,000 a year tuition...not to mention living on the other side of the country.
I know, I'm boring everyone with more college talk...but I'm obsessed. I wish college decisions were more like Harry Potter's sorting hat. Then I wouldn't have to stress a bit.