22 September 2011

Of Late

It seems I haven't blogged in, like, a month. Yikes. Catching up on blogging got pushed to the back burner (or perhaps it fell behind the metaphorical stove? Eh?) in the wake of more important things. Like research projects, and research projects, and research projects, and deciding on research project topics, and reading, and work, and the occasional social activity, and reading, and research projects, and reading, and thinking about Europe, and reading, and homework, and...

Well, new (and exciting!) developments in the life of Emily include scooter riding, going to a student ward, eight A.M. classes, accumulating dozens of library books (not an exaggeration), loving my major, loving my major, and loving my major, and generally being very content with life and its happenings.

I never really followed up on my "first impressions" blog post. School is still good. I'm filling my mind with the gritty profundity of aesthetic theory (and/or artistic existentialism). I'm bombarded with daguerreotypes and still life and religious frescos and baroque ceilings. I'm designing a theoretical art exhibit on the dichotomy and politics of super-realism. I'm saving money for France, Belgium, the Netherlands, Austria, and England. I'm devoting my life and sanity to Henri Matisse's fauvism and Annie Leibovitz's tour with The Rolling Stones and Caravaggio's basket of fruit (refer back to my multiple mentions of "research projects" in the first paragraph, and feel free to envy my insanely cool topics of choice.) Also, I'm in a New Testament class with my college cousins—we make a great foursome, especially as perpetual back row inhabitants, because they are some of my favorite people. And I'm loving having Fridays off to catch up on sleep.

I get to do cool things as an art historian (if I can legitimately call myself that, and if it all can universally be referred to as "cool"), such as attending museum exhibit openings with apple pie and live bluegrass, and making cyanotypes of plants from my backyard, and being in the museum after hours, and perusing thousands of aged library books, and studying photographs of 1960s British celebrities, and watching artist documentaries (actually, I do that during my free time, too—nerd alert!), and acting like a connoisseur at museum exhibits, and meeting likeminded, generally cool people.

Basically, my left brain is dormant. Probably dead, even.

I haven't been without the occasional strange happening, of course. Those are still good and plentiful. Eventually they'll make their debuts as laughable blog content.

In other news, however, my dear friend Matisse (not to be confused with the aforementioned Henri) and I stopped by College Night at the Springville Museum of Art. I like that place, but we ultimately opted to ditch the hipster fest for burgers and mainstream music.


Until next time :
To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.
—Oscar Wilde

I might look like a sleepless zombie most of the time, but I definitely feel like I'm living—no, I know I'm living. And I love it. I love knowing I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing. I love how happy and how busy and how inspired it makes me. (And I'm fully aware that I sound like am an obsessive nerd.)

1 comment:

  1. I had to look up daguerreotypes in the dictionary. Thank you for being so educated, my friend.

    P.S. I loved this post.

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