As it is now officially spring break, and I managed to pump out 4,000 words of academic drivel in less than 24 hours, I suppose I should update this, and you, on the state of my life.
First, I obviously don't remember exact details of the last 19 days, which means you miss out on all of the boring stuff. Lucky you guys. There is no structure beyond first. I'm too tired for that.
Mostly, I've been watching every episode of House ever and the occasional downloaded movie. Zodiac and The Assassination of Jesse James By the Coward Robert Ford were both worth my time, and I'm not sure that I could make a definite decision as to which I liked better. They're totally different movies, and both played to some of my movie soft spots. I would like a tattoo of Jesse James' face. The real Jesse, not Brad Pitt in the role of... It's one of my absolute favorite stories of all time. And the folk song about his life (covered by the likes of the Pogues and Bruce Springsteen, if you've never heard it) is a brilliant piece of Americana. I will probably use it as a lullaby for some future child. Anyway, Zodiac bothered me for some indeterminate reasons, and I think Fincher was lazy in parts. Entertaining, though.
All of that media was a futile attempt to put off my essays indefinitely. It worked, in that I didn't actually start them until yesterday morning, leaving me until noon today to write 4,000 words, half on the symbolism of blood in insular art, and the other half on the Gupta and Chinese influences on Northern Qi Buddhist art. I turned them in at approximately 11:05 this morning, so well before the deadline. And I got 4ish hours of sleep and saw the sunrise. Rather, would have, had it not been so dreek (pertaining to weather, Google it). I think they're decent and will at least score a passing grade. Good enough.
Yesterday, between bouts of essay writing, I went on a field trip to one of the Historic Scotland labs to see Pictish stones being conserved/refurbished. It's one of those art historical considerations that you never really get to see or think about, so it was pretty awesome. I'd consider, and have done, a career in historic preservation. There's not much money in it, but it's pretty noble. I'm a big believer in making sure that some history is available to future generations. I also got the chance to talk to my teacher some in the taxi over to/bus back from the lab. I thought she was American, but it turns out that she's actually the product of an American Air Force cadet and a British mother, and she grew up on military bases in the UK and Europe. So technically American, but has only lived in the states for less than 10 years of her life. She had some interesting suggestions for what I should look at as possible thesis topics and said that she had exactly the same dilemma in school that I'm currently having (see: no fucking clue where my interests really lie). She also said that if I decide to apply for an internship at the Philly Museum of Art again (which I did last summer, and was summarily denied), I should ask her for a recommendation, because she has a friend who works there. That's a pretty sweet connection to have, so go me. If I end up going to grad school in two years, and find an internship during next school year, I'll definitely pursue that route.
Now, I am just waiting for Lena to get here. Her flight is supposed to land in Glasgow in a matter of minutes, and she should be in Edinburgh by dinner. Which is good, as I am already starving and have eaten all of my food. I think I have some frozen green beans left.
Speaking of food, sort of, I've eaten a disgusting amount of candy the past few days. I bought an assortment of little Cadbury chocolates the other night, because I anticipated needing them for paper writing. Two days later, I got a package from my grandmom with more Easter candy, as well as a small packet of rice cakes, a package of ramen, and some instant oatmeal. Also, lots and lots of Peeps and other fun things (like a deviled egg made out of chocolate that = awesome). Easter candy is by far my favorite. But yeah, I made the oatmeal, ramen, and rice cakes into meals to last for 3 days. That, plus 2 liters of Coke Zero and way, way too much candy. I should probably have gone into diabetic shock at some point.
And on to health matters, I had the distinct pleasure of dealing with the socialized health care system the other day. I thought I had an ear infection (I don't, but I had chronic ear infections when I was little leading to tubes being put in my ears blah blah blah I have an innate fear of them), so I decided to go to the campus health center. Basically, it was the same as the USC health center (crowded, noisy, etc), but more hectic. The only time for walk-ins is 9-10am, Monday to Friday. Total pain in the ass. I waited for about an hour and a half to be seen, and I was the second to last person in the waiting room. People who came in after me were seen before me. I don't really care, but that's like 100 times worse than my one experience with the USC health center. The doctors sort of had patients on an assembly line, calling the next patient as the previous one was walking out of his or her door. I know it doesn't sound that bad, but it was pretty stressful, haha. Erin claims that socialized health care fails in that it doesn't give doctors any incentive to actually figure out what's wrong with a patient. I'm all for the system, but, going by the get-you-in-and-out mentality that I saw, it definitely needs some consideration. I'd like to think that doctors don't need incentive beyond actually helping someone. I know, idealism. But the doctor was very nice, at least. I'm pretty sure I could more accurately diagnose my problem, and I would like that hour and a half of my life back, but whatever. Live and learn.
Now, I think I am going to watch more House, as I have no more class until August. Yeah, unh, whut.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Deep introspection.
I don't really remember exactly when I posted last, but I can pretty much guarantee that I haven't gone out and done anything exciting since then. That's not to say that I've been totally idle though. I've been doing a lot of thinking, actually. This is going to be one of those posts that helps me sort out some thoughts and doesn't really do anything for you guys, so, sorry. I'm using this as an actual blog as opposed to a travel one right at this moment. Meaning, feelings more than narrative events.
First, what I've actually physically done recently: nothing besides going to a party last night. And watching lots and lots of Bones and NCIS. Also, looking at the puppies currently up for adoption in the LA area right now. Basically, forcibly manipulating my heartstrings. The Christmas episode of Bones actually made me cry, but that's neither here nor there.
So, yesterday, Jerry (a guy that works for the management company from which the Awesome [what I've just now decided to call next year's apartment, for obvious reasons] is being rented) was supposed to fax me a copy of our lease to sign. I set it up with Jonathan, one of the other SC students here, so that I could use his fax machine and would pick up the lease from his place at 9pm and then go to a party that one of his friends was having. I walked to the dorm where he lives, in tempest-grade winds I might add, only to have him tell me that the lease had never come through. Jonathan is slightly awkward, at best, so I don't think it ever crossed his mind to let me know this before I walked all the way over there, but whatever. The party was in the dorm, because things like that are allowed here. We got there and FOB was playing and beer pong with Corona was occurring. I should probably say that this was a "surf" themed party. So of course, I felt right at home. Over the course of the night, which was really only three and a half hours, Jonathan and I became reigning beer pong champions by winning 3 games. More importantly, though, I met the Canadian version of me. Her name is Alysha, and she's an ANTH major. We talked about a lot of stuff that I've had on my mind lately, because it's been on hers too. Basically, I have a huge girl-crush on myself. Anyway. We also proceeded to finish off a partial bottle of Grey Goose, so go us.
But yeah, the stuff that's been on my mind is life. More specifically, the real world vs. academia. I know, I'm a junior, and it's way too early for this crisis, but since basically everyone that I know is now facing/has just faced it, mine is being prematurely precipitated. That, and it's really all I ever think about. My concerns are two-fold, really, with lots and lots of little creases.
Concern #1 goes something like this: I have no idea what I want to do with my life. I know what I like. I know what I believe. I know what my weaknesses are. I don't know how all of those things are going to work towards my happiness in employment. I worry that I'm only working toward a career in museums/arts administration because it sounds cool to say. I could be the young, hip professional arbiter of taste that I can't be in my personal life, for a variety of reasons. When I really think about it though, that isn't so much what I want. Yes, I love art. That one fact is completely undeniable. But, I hate the economics of art. I hate pretending that taste is something that should be qualified and commodified. I know, I'm discounting entire fields of intensive study by tremendously interesting scholars (hello, Kant), but it just sort of makes me feel sick. Erin and I argue about this occasionally, as my view is idealistic and naive and hers is grounded in solid communication theory, but for both music and art I am a proponent of basically socialist, corporation-free realms. Impossible, blah blah blah, not my point. My point is, really, that I don't know if I can buy into the institutions of art. Sell my soul to the Man, if you will. I think museums are valuable resources, in that they have the potential to expose a lot of people to a lot of really important cultural productions, but I have a million tiny problems with the whole system. These million tiny problems (concerning things like ownership and struggles over repatriation and private vs. subsidized and having to pay to see objects that should belong to all of us) add up to a possibly insurmountable issue for me. The good that museums do is so intellectually specific and so clouded by the way that we've chosen, as a society, to run them.
Ultimately, I love art, but not the art world. And I've been thinking about this in terms of what else I could do that would be less morally compromising for me. There are tons of jobs that one can get with a liberal arts degree, completely outside the realm of art etc. But if I don't want to work in art, what else do I care about? Nothing. This is another crease of this problem. It is art, and only art, about which I am deeply passionate.
This leads me directly to Concern #2. If I love art so much, why not just become an academic? Write about art, in my own way, forever. Be free to study art/people interactions, which is what makes up the bulk of my interest. Because I don't know if I can do it. The thought of grad school is kind of making me panic at this moment. My entire life, I've had my sights set on eventually getting a Ph.D and being Dr. Lynch. There aren't any of those in my family. I know, though, that to do that would require at least 3 more years of schooling- 1 for a master's, and 2 more to write a doctoral thesis, defend it, etc. Technically, I could skip the master's and go right into a Ph.D. program, focusing on my chosen topic. Problem there is, I can't even fathom being able to choose a topic for intensive research any time soon. Also, I like the idea of a taught master's, because it would enable me to get a more solid practical foundation, something that an art history degree doesn't provide. I would get my master's in something like museum studies or public art, actually qualifying me to work in the art world. And then, maybe, I would have more of a focus for my eventual thesis. But maybe not.
Like the art world, I have a million small problems with this route. Mostly, I'm tired of this life. I don't know how much more research I can do before I lose all interest in everything. I feel like the number of papers that I have left in me is quickly becoming so small that just my BA might do me in. Especially if I plan on writing an honors thesis next year, which I do. And I can't even begin to imagine what I'm going to write that on, though Roman Britain looms large in my mind right now. The other problem with the academic life is money. More specifically, I don't have any. I'm living a life of self-denial, and it's destroying my will to do anything. I can't go out to eat when I want to. I can't buy all of the clothes that I'd like to have. I can't live a life of idle luxury haha. But really, it's too constrictive for me. I would be more than happy to live out the rest of my life in a shack in the woods, as I keep threatening. But that's not a feasible option right now. I would still need to be able to travel sometimes if I did that, and I don't have the savings necessary for that venture. The need to travel comes from another deep-seated issue, that being my wanderlust. I can't stay in one place forever. I hate making new friends, but it's emotionally easier than getting tired of my surroundings. My issues are varied and terrible, let me tell you.
What that all comes down to is this: I think I am going to need to take AT LEAST a year off after my BA. I don't know where I'll go or what I'll do, but right now, staying in LA and trying out museum work doesn't seem terrible. I can then decide how much my soul is going to cost and if I have the emotional strength to go back to a life of research and deprivation. A master's only takes a year, two part-time, so I think, in all likelihood, I will get one. Whether or not I can stop after that, I don't know. I have to evaluate my reasons for wanting a Ph.D. Mostly, I think, it's a selfish, shallow thing. Does getting a Ph.D. make me a better person? Nope. Will it help me make the world a better place? Nope. Really, then, is it worth what it's going to cost me (mentally and economically)? I don't need to decide that right now.
Of course, I'm going to apply for all of the fellowships/scholarships that I can next year. I think most of them can be deferred for a year anyway, so it couldn't hurt. And hell, who wouldn't want to be a Rhodes' Scholar? I'm as good as Bill Clinton, at least.
Now we get to the really crazy part of all this personal reflection- my alternate job choice, should museum work really be as terrible as I fear it might be. I am seriously, SERIOUSLY considering the possibility of becoming an FBI agent. I know, completely and totally ridiculous. Almost out of character for me, even, but only if you don't know me and where I come from. My father is a retired police officer. He became a police officer because he wanted to help people, and every other job that he'd tried failed to make him happy. Basically, I am beginning the long road of following in his unsatisfied footsteps. I don't really think of being an FBI agent as working for the Man, though it is basically the pinnacle of "Man-ness." The CIA, on the other hand, is totally working for the Man. The draw of the FBI is, as my Facebook status says, the art crimes division. I would have plenty of excuses to see the world, I'm sure, while still being able to feel that I am doing some Good and making the world, and the art world, a better place. This really does fit into my belief in art being for everyone, as I would be mostly trying to catch people who remove art from the public realm in order to sell it (for great economic gain) into the private realm. I'd be like the Robin Hood of hippie federal agents. Yes, I really and truly can justify anything. But I'd at least have a stable income and job security and the ability to move around a lot. Downsides, of course, being the need to get in serious shape before I can even think of Quantico and the possibility of being shot at all the time. I firmly believe that being a Special Agent in the FBI is approximately 4,000 times cooler than being a doctor in some obscure field of art history, though. And more socially conscious.
What's really funny about all that, and ties back to Alysha, is that she feels exactly the same way. Except, instead of becoming an FBI agent, she's looking into becoming a Mountie. I'm not even kidding. I think we're going to have lunch later this week, so we can continue to be awesome together.
If you read all that, you now know more about my psyche than anybody else in the world, basically. Congratulations. Now go do something constructive.
- C
First, what I've actually physically done recently: nothing besides going to a party last night. And watching lots and lots of Bones and NCIS. Also, looking at the puppies currently up for adoption in the LA area right now. Basically, forcibly manipulating my heartstrings. The Christmas episode of Bones actually made me cry, but that's neither here nor there.
So, yesterday, Jerry (a guy that works for the management company from which the Awesome [what I've just now decided to call next year's apartment, for obvious reasons] is being rented) was supposed to fax me a copy of our lease to sign. I set it up with Jonathan, one of the other SC students here, so that I could use his fax machine and would pick up the lease from his place at 9pm and then go to a party that one of his friends was having. I walked to the dorm where he lives, in tempest-grade winds I might add, only to have him tell me that the lease had never come through. Jonathan is slightly awkward, at best, so I don't think it ever crossed his mind to let me know this before I walked all the way over there, but whatever. The party was in the dorm, because things like that are allowed here. We got there and FOB was playing and beer pong with Corona was occurring. I should probably say that this was a "surf" themed party. So of course, I felt right at home. Over the course of the night, which was really only three and a half hours, Jonathan and I became reigning beer pong champions by winning 3 games. More importantly, though, I met the Canadian version of me. Her name is Alysha, and she's an ANTH major. We talked about a lot of stuff that I've had on my mind lately, because it's been on hers too. Basically, I have a huge girl-crush on myself. Anyway. We also proceeded to finish off a partial bottle of Grey Goose, so go us.
But yeah, the stuff that's been on my mind is life. More specifically, the real world vs. academia. I know, I'm a junior, and it's way too early for this crisis, but since basically everyone that I know is now facing/has just faced it, mine is being prematurely precipitated. That, and it's really all I ever think about. My concerns are two-fold, really, with lots and lots of little creases.
Concern #1 goes something like this: I have no idea what I want to do with my life. I know what I like. I know what I believe. I know what my weaknesses are. I don't know how all of those things are going to work towards my happiness in employment. I worry that I'm only working toward a career in museums/arts administration because it sounds cool to say. I could be the young, hip professional arbiter of taste that I can't be in my personal life, for a variety of reasons. When I really think about it though, that isn't so much what I want. Yes, I love art. That one fact is completely undeniable. But, I hate the economics of art. I hate pretending that taste is something that should be qualified and commodified. I know, I'm discounting entire fields of intensive study by tremendously interesting scholars (hello, Kant), but it just sort of makes me feel sick. Erin and I argue about this occasionally, as my view is idealistic and naive and hers is grounded in solid communication theory, but for both music and art I am a proponent of basically socialist, corporation-free realms. Impossible, blah blah blah, not my point. My point is, really, that I don't know if I can buy into the institutions of art. Sell my soul to the Man, if you will. I think museums are valuable resources, in that they have the potential to expose a lot of people to a lot of really important cultural productions, but I have a million tiny problems with the whole system. These million tiny problems (concerning things like ownership and struggles over repatriation and private vs. subsidized and having to pay to see objects that should belong to all of us) add up to a possibly insurmountable issue for me. The good that museums do is so intellectually specific and so clouded by the way that we've chosen, as a society, to run them.
Ultimately, I love art, but not the art world. And I've been thinking about this in terms of what else I could do that would be less morally compromising for me. There are tons of jobs that one can get with a liberal arts degree, completely outside the realm of art etc. But if I don't want to work in art, what else do I care about? Nothing. This is another crease of this problem. It is art, and only art, about which I am deeply passionate.
This leads me directly to Concern #2. If I love art so much, why not just become an academic? Write about art, in my own way, forever. Be free to study art/people interactions, which is what makes up the bulk of my interest. Because I don't know if I can do it. The thought of grad school is kind of making me panic at this moment. My entire life, I've had my sights set on eventually getting a Ph.D and being Dr. Lynch. There aren't any of those in my family. I know, though, that to do that would require at least 3 more years of schooling- 1 for a master's, and 2 more to write a doctoral thesis, defend it, etc. Technically, I could skip the master's and go right into a Ph.D. program, focusing on my chosen topic. Problem there is, I can't even fathom being able to choose a topic for intensive research any time soon. Also, I like the idea of a taught master's, because it would enable me to get a more solid practical foundation, something that an art history degree doesn't provide. I would get my master's in something like museum studies or public art, actually qualifying me to work in the art world. And then, maybe, I would have more of a focus for my eventual thesis. But maybe not.
Like the art world, I have a million small problems with this route. Mostly, I'm tired of this life. I don't know how much more research I can do before I lose all interest in everything. I feel like the number of papers that I have left in me is quickly becoming so small that just my BA might do me in. Especially if I plan on writing an honors thesis next year, which I do. And I can't even begin to imagine what I'm going to write that on, though Roman Britain looms large in my mind right now. The other problem with the academic life is money. More specifically, I don't have any. I'm living a life of self-denial, and it's destroying my will to do anything. I can't go out to eat when I want to. I can't buy all of the clothes that I'd like to have. I can't live a life of idle luxury haha. But really, it's too constrictive for me. I would be more than happy to live out the rest of my life in a shack in the woods, as I keep threatening. But that's not a feasible option right now. I would still need to be able to travel sometimes if I did that, and I don't have the savings necessary for that venture. The need to travel comes from another deep-seated issue, that being my wanderlust. I can't stay in one place forever. I hate making new friends, but it's emotionally easier than getting tired of my surroundings. My issues are varied and terrible, let me tell you.
What that all comes down to is this: I think I am going to need to take AT LEAST a year off after my BA. I don't know where I'll go or what I'll do, but right now, staying in LA and trying out museum work doesn't seem terrible. I can then decide how much my soul is going to cost and if I have the emotional strength to go back to a life of research and deprivation. A master's only takes a year, two part-time, so I think, in all likelihood, I will get one. Whether or not I can stop after that, I don't know. I have to evaluate my reasons for wanting a Ph.D. Mostly, I think, it's a selfish, shallow thing. Does getting a Ph.D. make me a better person? Nope. Will it help me make the world a better place? Nope. Really, then, is it worth what it's going to cost me (mentally and economically)? I don't need to decide that right now.
Of course, I'm going to apply for all of the fellowships/scholarships that I can next year. I think most of them can be deferred for a year anyway, so it couldn't hurt. And hell, who wouldn't want to be a Rhodes' Scholar? I'm as good as Bill Clinton, at least.
Now we get to the really crazy part of all this personal reflection- my alternate job choice, should museum work really be as terrible as I fear it might be. I am seriously, SERIOUSLY considering the possibility of becoming an FBI agent. I know, completely and totally ridiculous. Almost out of character for me, even, but only if you don't know me and where I come from. My father is a retired police officer. He became a police officer because he wanted to help people, and every other job that he'd tried failed to make him happy. Basically, I am beginning the long road of following in his unsatisfied footsteps. I don't really think of being an FBI agent as working for the Man, though it is basically the pinnacle of "Man-ness." The CIA, on the other hand, is totally working for the Man. The draw of the FBI is, as my Facebook status says, the art crimes division. I would have plenty of excuses to see the world, I'm sure, while still being able to feel that I am doing some Good and making the world, and the art world, a better place. This really does fit into my belief in art being for everyone, as I would be mostly trying to catch people who remove art from the public realm in order to sell it (for great economic gain) into the private realm. I'd be like the Robin Hood of hippie federal agents. Yes, I really and truly can justify anything. But I'd at least have a stable income and job security and the ability to move around a lot. Downsides, of course, being the need to get in serious shape before I can even think of Quantico and the possibility of being shot at all the time. I firmly believe that being a Special Agent in the FBI is approximately 4,000 times cooler than being a doctor in some obscure field of art history, though. And more socially conscious.
What's really funny about all that, and ties back to Alysha, is that she feels exactly the same way. Except, instead of becoming an FBI agent, she's looking into becoming a Mountie. I'm not even kidding. I think we're going to have lunch later this week, so we can continue to be awesome together.
If you read all that, you now know more about my psyche than anybody else in the world, basically. Congratulations. Now go do something constructive.
- C
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