Around this time of year, I get all wound-up, blogging wise. This is the time of year where nothing typically happens, where the mundanity of life eats away. This is the time of year where I interact the least with the blogging community. When I'm all wound-up, the best thing to do is deconstruct.
Deconstruct. I am reminded of the building blocks which my brother and I found hidden within the corners of the room, which we had decided to create abstract figures out of simple geometric shapes. I am removing the armor that a mighty blogger carries upon themselves--a sign of protection and burden--and return to my roots, the flagship mantra of every new blogger: "I'm new, I have something to say, please listen, no matter how new I am or how messy the post is." The idea of creating a fresh start is an appealing thought, yes? That is why many ring in the new year with a new hope that dreams carry, a hope which I carry.
Here I am, at my roots, recollecting my purpose as to why I write this blog. My hands are ink-covered by one of the many prescription pens my dad brings home from his work. The night is still young and the stars are shining bright. However, despite the cliche which carries the line, it doesn't matter. Many don't look to the stars anymore, as I do walking to school. Many individuals have their attention fixated at their tiny six-inch screens. If, reader, you are reading this post from your phone: hello.
Seriously, if you have not read this book, you totally should. It discusses my three favorite topics: art, philosophy, and the meaning of life. I wish I could have a normal conversation with people about these three topics, but it's extremely rare for me to find someone who would be willing to discuss one of the three with me.
Recently I've read the novel The Elegance of the Hedgehog, a French novel by Muriel Barbery, a book I've chosen to do a project on for school. It has become one of my favorite novels. The novel discusses that while art and philosophy may be two things that do make up for humanity's idle minded views (the two alternating protagonists have very cynical perspectives of modern society), the meaning of life-- as this is the main question revolving around the novel-- comes from interacting with others. That is the basis of the novel, and it is from interacting with others and creating a relationship with them, mainly friendship, that the beauty of life is found.
Thanks to my brother, who wasn't arguing about having photos of his hands taken above.
Interacting with others has been, to a degree, what I have been doing. I arrive at school early and have my daily conversation with the debate team members, my friends and some other individuals in my first period class. After school, I head and out brave myself to be surrounded by about forty-nine other individuals at rehearsals for theatre. By next week, I will be adding onto my plate interactions with others during softball, a sport which I am learning to do and is taking place of track due to my Saturday schedule.
Talking to numerous people does appear satisfying, and this appears to be obvious when I was in my first community theatre show two years ago. The most recent instance where chatting was satisfying was during state declamation, where five of us from the district level recognized each other and supported each other against the other school districts, and honestly, despite the limited interaction we had during our previous encounter, I wouldn't have wanted any other group to support me there than them. For me, I can only talk to a few people at a time. Speak too much to too many different individuals, then I arrive at home, diving head first onto my bed to fall asleep. However, there is no correlation between how much I interact with others and how much I blog; the correlation lies more whether there is something interesting to post and whether that particular post is ready to be showcased and published.
Currently working on the art journal aspect of my project-- representing the rather cynical / pessimistic views the two protagonists have about society. I'm going to have such a fun time explain this theme in class, and no, there is no sarcasm there.
That is my main reason for blogging so little lately. It's better to post something meaningful and that you feel is important rather than post spontaneously and regret it later.
In result of chatting with individuals, I came to the conclusion that people do notice you despite how little you attempt to draw attention to yourself, and often times it is the more positive aspects of your being pointed out rather than your negative ones. For instance, one of the members on the debate team pointed out that this girl (who I did track last year with and thought loathed me, who also was the choreographer of our school's original musical) thought that I was pretty chill and a really great actor. A more recent revelation were the thoughts which a good friend of mine had of me, revealed by a mutual friend of ours. Both times, I'm shocked.
Photos I am currently incorporating within a school project-- the main photograph shown is of the sprinting girls of last year's track and field season; I'm the shortest one in the photo.
I attempt to see the best in others when they can't, but the opposite is much harder; frankly, when we look at our own selves, all we see is a self-degraded version of what many tend to admire about our individual states. When we perceive ourselves through our own eyes, it's often through the worst of lenses, and this is why I think we need to interact with other people.
I'm not sure how often I will be posting on the blog until this summer, but hopefully, whatever I post then will mean something and carry as much weight as the words I am carrying now.
By the time this post is published, it will be March (but I have written this on Leap Day). I do wish you enjoyed your Leap Day, as it comes only once every four years (and, frankly, you have no idea how much this day makes me feel elated). Plus, it is some of my friends' birthdays-- they are turning four.
Thank you for listening.