i am afraid to merge

Where do I start? I am sitting in Sugar Café, two doors down from my apartment, next to a fireplace that some how is lit and flaming over little pebbles that are over glossed in whites and blues. I feel disconnected, which is probably the worst time to write in a public blog, but I can’t help it.

School has been going great. The semester is currently approaching midterms and I can hardly believe how fast two months have gone by. Cliché, but it seems like just yesterday I left my empty room in Salt Lake. Digital photography is pretty basic, but I think I am finally getting a grasp on shutter speeds and aperture. This concept is hard and opposite and is not just common sense like I have been told for the passed few years. It’s amazing that I called myself a photographer before when I didn’t even know how to use manual setting. I was stuck on settings with pictures and I strayed from letters. Boy, have I come far.

Fundamentals of photography is my favorite class, hands down, no arguments. I think it is my favorite because we actually get to create, print, and critique. Some people are afraid of critiques, worry about how to present their art, nervous about what people say, and argue any sort of criticism. Not me, I thrive off of it. I love the thrill received when you lie out those fresh prints, stand in the back as twenty new pairs of eyes glaze and analyze. I actually stand there hoping they say something negative, hoping they have some way to push me, something for me to re think and try again. I like a challenge in my art, but more importantly I like redemption. Our class is working of a “Day in the Life” project. Paired up with someone in our class, our task is to document their life in an interesting way. You know, make breakfast seem as exciting as firefighters washing trucks shirtless. I am working with Jordan, a red haired volleyball playing beauty from Santa Cruz. So far, so good. I had an in progress critique today, which helped generate some ideas to make my collection of five photographs even stronger.

History of Photography is like every history class possible. You pretend that you do not like it, that you dread going, but the entire time you are attentive and listening because it is incredibly interesting to see where your absolute passion stemmed from. Film History is my second favorite class; mostly because I love the enthusiasm my teacher carries with each step. He loves what he does. He is not there for the money (though that may help) but rather he is there to share his favorites films with us and make us connect the themes in the films to our own lives.

I have neglected a little bit of extreme thank you’s. First off, thank you to Aunt Michael for the Wicked t shirt and the New York skyline paper cut out sent all the way from NYC. I wear the shirt all the time, can you say softest shirt ever? Oh, how I am jealous that you got to experience it. I need to give a big thank you to my Grandmother for the little slipper shoe things. I have been desperately looking for a pair of these just to roam around in the dorm with. They are perfect. Thank you to my sister for the constant Halloween goodies and surprises. Thank you to my Mother for the Halloween decorations. Some parents send food, some send money – mine sends bat stickers and paper foldouts. I am so grateful. Thank you all so much for all the fun surprises. I cannot tell you how good it feels to get a package in this lonely city with just the touch of home.

On Friday I have a meeting with some girl named Monica to schedule and register for next semester. I cannot believe it is that time already. It stresses me out. Everything is starting to feel permanent. When I went to Italy, I knew I would come home in four months and never be back (well hopefully one day I will go back, but you get my point,) the University of Utah was the same way – I would be done in a few months. My summer job, I knew it would end. I have not had anything permanent in my life for a while. Everything is changing. I am scared to commit. I won’t lie. I do not know how to explain it. The best way to describe it is I am “afraid to merge” (Less Than Zero, Brett Easton Ellis.) What an incredible opportunity I have to live here, but why doesn’t it feel like home.

I think I am going to stop before it gets dramatic and I start rambling. Have a good night.

xoxo