Why I Choose the Life of the Mind
Exhilaration City: Population - Chaos! Intrepid yet mild-mannered Alex works to rid this reality of all malignant forces and furies. Laboring extensively to keep his secret identity, A-Butz from the public at large, he tirelessly strives to make the world we call our own a place of beauty, peace, and happiness.
Whatever that means, but by way of an introduction, it sure stays within its means and objectives. Here's something to look at:
I just created it, not one hour ago, using only graphite, paper, a bit of wood, some rubber, and that most essential of tools: my mind.
When I say mind, of course I refer to the collective set of swirling emotions and thoughts which comprise my imagination. I make this distinction because such urges as love, faith, forgiveness, joy, euphoria, and connection are those which conventionally are attributed to the heart. I attempt to do away with this distinction and focus attention on all parts of the brain, the mind, and the soul.
Now that that's out of the way, I can talk seriously (if only for a moment) about the content of this sketch I've drawn.
I did the first one utilizing all my means of drawing, without limitations saved those natural ones which I cannot remove from my mind. The next I did using only the side of my pencil. I did not set out to do so, but quickly became enamored of the technique. Naturally, this makes the picture significantly larger than the other. Unfortunately, when the picture was done, I really wanted to go over some of the finer details of it with the point of my pencil wicked bad. But, I decided to leave it as is. I feel like it makes a contrast between the two pictures.
Anyway, I wanted to create something. To write something and to draw something. One of those things has been accomplished, and now let me digress from this mental thread and go on to something different.
So I really like my Theology class again. I mean, I never disliked it, and I always enjoyed going there and learning something new about Christianity. The first semester was amazing, articulating a lot of things I've always felt and then fleshing out the details of parts I only understood superficially. Attribute that to being raised Catholic and going to CCD but only learning things dogmaticly or catechistically. The beginning of this semester was really good, discussing the concept of Trinity. We came up with our own metaphors for that idea, mine being a tree, with God as its trunk, Jesus as leaves, and the Holy Spirit being the wind that blows it all. Without going into detail, it made the concept of Trinity become (for me) a really important part of faith, and not just some mythological aspect of religion which was held over from the Middle Ages.
For a few weeks this semester we've looked at a lot of Christianity historically. I like history, and we did learn some important things that Luther said (which were incredibly important to the faith). But it was just like a history class, which I like, but didn't get the same feeling and knowledge from. But now that we are discussing sacraments, and what they are and mean contrary to what I was raised to see (but not understand). The idea that all things are parts of human life and living before they can be ritualized and made especially holy are holy to begin with. My professor gave the example of hugging and kissing his infant son when he learned something new. That act signifies love and connection with his son, because it is love and connection. So many things I do feel like are sacraments and holy. Drawing. Writing. Talking with friends about important things. Watching a movie with an important underlying theme, message, or statement. When something is what it represents, and what it represents is something holy: boom - sacrament.
So, I just like classes (or moments in life in general) which encourage abstract thinking about relevant and irrelevant topics.
I think I'll leave it at that. And by, "leave it at that," I mean ramble for just about a paragraph more. And by that I mean include random thoughts that occur to me now in bullet form. Things that I think say something about me but aren't necessarily obvious.
- I fucking love trees. Grass comes in at a close second, but I love a tree so much.
- Speaking of grass, though mowing the lawn is a chore I do when I'm at home in the summer, I secretly love it.
- I hate French class more than anything. Like, anything. At least my Research Methods professor has a cool Nigerian accent.
- I will kill soon enough for some sushi or Korean food. Literally, dead for you, but I can't afford it. Dollars and money.
- I listen to a lot of rap lately. Especially Wu-Tang and members thereof. I also listened to Illmatic. It was as advertised: ill.
- I can't wait for certain parts of summer, them being outdoors like the beach and Goddard Park and everywhere.
That was enough. Glad I got that off my chest. It might have ripped forth with the furious crash that speaks back to a time when life moved that fast. I can't overstate that my fate stays with the late, with last in time at the end of this state of being where we're seeing without freeing our minds, that kind of restriction can signal a sign.
Sorry that's not formatted in an easy-readable fashion. Poetry just fucking, flows, and you fucking nuns should know better than anyone else.
Peace.
Whatever that means, but by way of an introduction, it sure stays within its means and objectives. Here's something to look at:
I just created it, not one hour ago, using only graphite, paper, a bit of wood, some rubber, and that most essential of tools: my mind.
When I say mind, of course I refer to the collective set of swirling emotions and thoughts which comprise my imagination. I make this distinction because such urges as love, faith, forgiveness, joy, euphoria, and connection are those which conventionally are attributed to the heart. I attempt to do away with this distinction and focus attention on all parts of the brain, the mind, and the soul.
Now that that's out of the way, I can talk seriously (if only for a moment) about the content of this sketch I've drawn.
I did the first one utilizing all my means of drawing, without limitations saved those natural ones which I cannot remove from my mind. The next I did using only the side of my pencil. I did not set out to do so, but quickly became enamored of the technique. Naturally, this makes the picture significantly larger than the other. Unfortunately, when the picture was done, I really wanted to go over some of the finer details of it with the point of my pencil wicked bad. But, I decided to leave it as is. I feel like it makes a contrast between the two pictures.
Anyway, I wanted to create something. To write something and to draw something. One of those things has been accomplished, and now let me digress from this mental thread and go on to something different.
So I really like my Theology class again. I mean, I never disliked it, and I always enjoyed going there and learning something new about Christianity. The first semester was amazing, articulating a lot of things I've always felt and then fleshing out the details of parts I only understood superficially. Attribute that to being raised Catholic and going to CCD but only learning things dogmaticly or catechistically. The beginning of this semester was really good, discussing the concept of Trinity. We came up with our own metaphors for that idea, mine being a tree, with God as its trunk, Jesus as leaves, and the Holy Spirit being the wind that blows it all. Without going into detail, it made the concept of Trinity become (for me) a really important part of faith, and not just some mythological aspect of religion which was held over from the Middle Ages.
For a few weeks this semester we've looked at a lot of Christianity historically. I like history, and we did learn some important things that Luther said (which were incredibly important to the faith). But it was just like a history class, which I like, but didn't get the same feeling and knowledge from. But now that we are discussing sacraments, and what they are and mean contrary to what I was raised to see (but not understand). The idea that all things are parts of human life and living before they can be ritualized and made especially holy are holy to begin with. My professor gave the example of hugging and kissing his infant son when he learned something new. That act signifies love and connection with his son, because it is love and connection. So many things I do feel like are sacraments and holy. Drawing. Writing. Talking with friends about important things. Watching a movie with an important underlying theme, message, or statement. When something is what it represents, and what it represents is something holy: boom - sacrament.
So, I just like classes (or moments in life in general) which encourage abstract thinking about relevant and irrelevant topics.
I think I'll leave it at that. And by, "leave it at that," I mean ramble for just about a paragraph more. And by that I mean include random thoughts that occur to me now in bullet form. Things that I think say something about me but aren't necessarily obvious.
- I fucking love trees. Grass comes in at a close second, but I love a tree so much.
- Speaking of grass, though mowing the lawn is a chore I do when I'm at home in the summer, I secretly love it.
- I hate French class more than anything. Like, anything. At least my Research Methods professor has a cool Nigerian accent.
- I will kill soon enough for some sushi or Korean food. Literally, dead for you, but I can't afford it. Dollars and money.
- I listen to a lot of rap lately. Especially Wu-Tang and members thereof. I also listened to Illmatic. It was as advertised: ill.
- I can't wait for certain parts of summer, them being outdoors like the beach and Goddard Park and everywhere.
That was enough. Glad I got that off my chest. It might have ripped forth with the furious crash that speaks back to a time when life moved that fast. I can't overstate that my fate stays with the late, with last in time at the end of this state of being where we're seeing without freeing our minds, that kind of restriction can signal a sign.
Sorry that's not formatted in an easy-readable fashion. Poetry just fucking, flows, and you fucking nuns should know better than anyone else.
Peace.