It’s hard to believe that we’ve already made it this far through the year, and that I’m already past the half way point of this 52 week challenge. I still have a couple to do from past weeks which I haven’t forgotten about, but for now, I’m just happy to be catching up on the few weeks I’ve recently messed up on!
Independence is the topic for this week. It’s an interesting topic, and can have different meanings to different people. With the 4th of July just this past weekend, I’m sure the idea of independence comes to mind with a much more patriotic meaning for a large amount of people. For me, however, independence has always brought a different feeling to mind.
I’ve always liked being on my own, being able to be myself, and not having to answer to anyone. I moved out when I was just 18, and haven’t really looked back. Though over the years this has been limited, I’ve tried to express myself the best I could while still abiding to the confines of the corporate world, and trying to be what many perceive as “a responsible adult”. I know you all have heard me talk about how crazy things have been lately, and I suppose I should break it down to you, as it really all comes down to one thing; my independence has been cut off. Yes, it’s true, I suppose the pay check of my (terrible) job was one, if not it’s only, perk, because now I’m out of resources and options. I’ve moved back in with family, and don’t really see the option to pursue my educational and artistic dreams. I’ve been accepted to MICA, a school I’ve always dreamed of going to, and have received 90% of the tuition in scholarships, grants, and loans, but am being suffocated by the fact that I cannot come up with the other 10%. And the icing on the cake — I can’t find a job to save my life! Everyone looks at me like I have three heads when I tell them I left my tenured management position in banking to pursue an art degree, and am willing to take a considerable pay cut to work at their company. I know, stay positive. I know, everything will happen the way it’s supposed to. But it’s been pretty difficult to stay positive when I start thinking that the “way things are supposed to be” may end up being the exact opposite of how I’ve always wished they would be.
Yes, I know I’m lucky, as many have told me, to have family that will help me while I’m in need, but at the same time, this help comes with a lot of hurt. I know my family loves me, I love them too, but we have an interesting relationship, much of which revolves around them not understanding me and wanting me to change. Ah, yes, the sounds of teenage angst coming back — “parents just don’t understand!”. It sounds silly, I know, but that’s always been our relationship (and you can throw my brother, aunt and grandmother in there, too), and it saddens me to see just how unwilling they are to see things from a different perspective. Over the years I’ve been through quite a bit, professionally and personally, but one thing that I’m glad I’ve learned is how to see things from another perspective, and to gain information about situations before making a judgement. They’re quite the opposite. How I should be, feel, think, and grow in this world is made up in their minds, and that is where we will always clash. My deviation from what they expect is what angers them, and my desires to do things which seem illogical to them, because it is the only way for me, is where they find me irresponsible and immature. Independence. It’s really an interesting word. In a world, like mine, where family so strongly influences what you do, it can be a difficult thing to achieve, particularly when you need their support for things they find foolish. They’re practically begging me to give up going to MICA, find a regular job, and just be happy doing art as a hobby. I’m out of ways to tell them that going back to that life would most likely kill me… Gasping for air to get out of the dark waters which were that life took so much energy, effort, and bravery that I didn’t think I had, I don’t know if I could do it again.
When I was in my very first class, on the very first night, of my very first semester in returning to school, we were instructed by my photography teacher to fill out a little card with our information on it. Half information about who we were, and half one of those typical introduce yourself to the group type exercises. One of the questions was to select which animal best describes you, and why. Most people have something fierce, like a lion, or a hawk, showing their bravery, strength, and confidence. Questions like this always throw me for a loop, so I had to spend most of my time thinking of how to select an appropriate animal. I know, it’s a silly introduction, who cares? But I always put too much thought in to these things…maybe because I remember situations like this three years later. Anyways, after much deliberation, I came up with what I still think is the most accurate animal to describe me, and why. A bird. At that time, I was nearing the worst part of my professional career, and my head was filled with ideas of a great escape, and how grand life would be in just a few short years. So when I selected the bird as my “spirit animal” so to say, there was really only one reason that I could think of as to why it was so fitting for my personality. I could fly. I would have the ability to be free, and escape to a new place any time I wanted to. Independence. No more confinement, no more restriction. I was trapped in a world where I dreaded waking up in the morning, and I wanted nothing more than to escape. I didn’t know it then, but going to school and incorporating that artistic outlet in my life at that time would be what really saved me, and helped me keep what little sanity I had at the end of it all.
Waking up nearly three years later and seeing how things have changed, I’m glad that I took the chances that I did, and have started down the path I have. I’m also terrified that it was all in vain and that it’s steadily coming to an end. I have people watching my every move and judging my every decision in ways that I haven’t experienced in over a decade, and to be honest, it’s a little terrifying.
This past weekend, though it may have been Independence day, was more like anti-independence day to me. I had my move on Friday of last week, and had to say goodbye to my life of freedom. I suppose the only small glimmer in that was that it was the holiday weekend, and I got to have a mini escape to the beach. There truly is nothing better than being there, to me. I could go there penniless, and would still have an immeasurable amount of happiness, serenity, and relaxation. It really couldn’t have come at a better time. So while I was there, I stopped to take a few pictures of my favorite places, as well as made time to visit places that I’ve always wanted to shoot, but never made the time for. Of course, there were my birds, flying free in the ocean air. Admiring them over a landscape which seems endless it really something I find hard to describe. It’s cathartic — I could just stay out there forever, watching them, and whatever else may come by. Even though I may not be “free” anymore, being in an environment like that really sets my mind free. When it’s normally racing with thoughts of what I could have done differently, what people are going to think about me, what I should and should not be doing, there’s quiet. When I look out in to the vast openness of the ocean, it’s like anything is possible, and anything could be just around the horizon. It’s the only place where there is freedom from the confines of my mind, while watching nature, feeling the sand between my toes, and admiring my spirit animal, in its many different forms.