the year in review
It's been a Compositions kind of year;
3 July 1990 saw Anita Baker at the top of her game. Once a mere rhythm section singer for a virtually unknown Detroit 10 pc. band, she had elevated herself to the top ranks of the music industry on the basis of her distinctive vocal talent. She was a newlywed and really, there was no reason at least outwardly that she should have been unhappy.
Sales for the new album, however, were underwhelming. Midway through the Compositions nationwide tour, Baker suffered her second miscarriage and was forced to cancel the remainder of the tour. She was an arm's length from nervous breakdown. Things were not well.
This year aint been easy. I feel your pain, Ms. Baker.
I can still recall how I felt the day I stepped onto campus at the beginning of this year. Dammit, I was bright-eyed and bushy tailed, chomping at the bit to get the academic year underway. I had had a stellar freshman year, and all signs pointed to success as began the core curriculum of the Chemistry major. I'll admit that I was apprehensive about the notorious Organic Chemistry in addition to Math 32L, but I was confident that I could succeed come hell or highwater.
Then, alas, the semester began. Things went well enough to begin with, but soon it all became too much. I began having problems sleeping, and had barely a second to myself during the day. There were difficulties with my roommate. By the semester's end, I was a trainwreck. I can honestly say that I have never endured such duress ever before in my life. The Christmas holiday was refreshing, but I was terrified to return to the hell that my once delightful Gothic Wonderland had birthed.
I returned. And things were better without taking the Math course, but really things weren't all that better. I felt so abandoned by my Aycock friends, often having to seek them out myself for company, hardly ever the other way around. Most people consider scorn to be one of the most awful actions to be comitted upon oneself, but really I think it's far worse to be forgotten. You're not worth remembering, and people just kind of leave you by the wayside to fend for yourself.
I began to reevaluate myself as a person, trying to figure out what it was I really wanted for myself. Socially, you know. I even rushed a selective house.
The semester ended with a bang, and a horrible grade in Chemistry. It was decided, I would not be a Chemistry major. Overall I can't say I was that disappointed, I had been planning a backup for months actually...architecture.
Inspired from a course on Japanese Architecture by the enthralling Prof. Weisenfeld, I discovered a passion to have a hand in designing the visual environs of our world. I loved the cereberal theory of the Japanese architects, the idea that they as architects could directly influence the attitudes and quality of life of the everyman. The power to uplift, to inspire a society. Also the power to heal (i.e. Shigeru Ban who used old recycled paper tubes in kits which African refugees used for modular housing). Not to mention architects like Kenzo Tange who were more or less responsible for rebuilding postwar Japan.
I finally had the window that so many speak of God as always propping open. But there were my parents to convince. And the fact that I had to take Physics, yet another Duke science course.....
Enter this summer. To make a long story short, it was brutal. But I passed, and there is no obstacle in my way preventing me from going to Architecture school after graduation. Well, there is the matter of getting in of course lol.
It's just so nice to have something go right in such a very long time. I feel so much more older, and mature. A little bitter as well. I'm grateful though for the perspective that these hardships have given me. I live each day in an entirely different place mentally. I don't take anything for granted, and I can honestly say that I feel closer to God. He didn't have to let me pass Physics (and it sure was close for a minute) but he did. And I'll never forget the feeling I felt last Friday pulling up my grade on ACES. This is, as they say, it. And for the first time in a longass time, my forcast is FUCKING CLEAR.
excerpt from Fairytales, a single from Compositions
I can remember stories, those things my mother said
She told me fairy tales, before I went to bed
She spoke of happy endings, then tucked me in real tight
She turned my night light on, and kissed my face good night
My mind would fill with visions, of perfect paradise
The story ends, as stories do
Reality steps into view
No longer living life in paradise
or fairy tales...
-b