"Environmental Dust" (Preface)

Every other Thursday there is a special haven where a select group of writers like to go to in order to express their thoughts. This creative writing club is highly exclusive and only allows the most elite to join in on the discussions of sophisticated ideas to put towards the written word... I kid. This is actually a very laid back writing group where I go either to talk about books, read each other's writings, or simply talk about the daily happenings of life. I look forward to this time every time it comes around as it's a unique opportunity to talk and read with some really cool people. However, I admit that I haven't brought any new stories as of late as I have not had the time or inspiration to do so. With the school year coming to a close, however, I find that I have more of each of those now, and so have decided to present a certain story line I've been thinking about for some time within my blog for you, dear reader.

I presented this idea at the beginning of the year within our writing group, but I soon abandoned it as I no longer felt it unique enough to continue. It had begun as something simple, and I had over thought the plot, made things too complicated, and decided against writing it. However, months later I find I am willing to come back to it, but not as the complicated mess it had been left as, but rather as the simple version from which it began. This time I'm not going to plan ahead with what happens next; I will just write and see where the story leads me.

So, without further ado...

Environmental Dust

PREFACE

From tiny seed the Great Oak began. From nearly nothing came life. When a plant starts to grow, it desires nutrients from the earth, thirsts for water from the sky, and absorbs energy from the sun. Most of all, though, when that tiny seed releases that first root, it needs time. Much can happen if time is given; all one has to do is wait. Decisions, emotions, growth, bonds, catastrophes, cities, the world—life revolves around time, although sometimes we forget.

Is it so unheard of then, if time was allowed to pass without interference, that the unexpected would take place? None would know for sure unless they waited to see, and patience is a rare thing.

A tree supplies the perfect environment to sustain life for many creatures. The bugs, birds, squirrels, and even humans thrive off this little piece of creation. Though time would have us forget, there once was a tree that sustained life beyond what could have been imagined. Not only did it provide for the organisms around it, a new creature was forming within it. Beneath the bark, nourished by the soil, water, and sun, a child grew. She was of human appearance in every way, and yet still remained very much a part of the vegetation that nurtured her. If the tree had been cut down, destroyed, she would've perished as well without anyone knowing of the loss. But if she were given time, she would grow slowly with the tree into maturity until she was able to breath the air outside the bark for herself.

This tree was the oldest the earth had ever known, and had been given time—lots of time to be able to nurture this child into a woman, who was nearly ready to breathe the air for the first time. All that was required was the perfect environment.

From a tiny seed her life began.

Little did she know, however, that from nearly nothing she would fall. 

Inspiration: The Notorious Epiphany

You ever have that moment when you have an innate moment of realization that just completely, for lack of a better phrase, blows your mind? Some may recognize this as the renowned instant of inspiration that the creatively inclined desire for in order to influence their work to make it great--the epiphany.

This is a rare occurrence (I mean, if it were an everyday thing, it wouldn't have such a renowned reputation), and thus is to be grasped and held onto upon inception. I myself can remember one time when one came upon me. I was so excited that I simply had to tell someone about it. The only one in the room was my mother, so I attempted to explain the great moment of transcendence which had struck my brain. For those of you who have experienced the epiphany, you'll know what I'm talking about when I say that it makes a lot more sense in my head as opposed to on my tongue. I found myself stumbling over my words, trying desperately to make her understand just how magnificent this thought was--to no avail. All I received was a blank stare as it failed to offer the same effect.

Inspiration is a funny thing. There have been countless books, articles, and speeches written on this subject on how to gain this kind of revelation. Is this really something that is able to be attained by following a set of steps? How exactly does one acquire this state of mind? When I show people my art, one of the first things they ask me is "what was your inspiration?" Unable to answer them right away, I had to take a moment to really think about it. How was I inspired? It's not really something I think about when I'm actually painting or drawing; some things I create simply because I personally think it would look cool. Does personal taste count as inspiration? Perhaps not, but I am still able to function with it all the same. Why do we need this great moment of clarity then? It is then that I am able to think of the projects when I did have this marvelous feeling. I think the best way to describe it, is that it just makes things easier. With its presence, the process suddenly seems simple in all of it's complexity. A newly found joy is present, and the creativity just flows in a way that doesn't seem like the tedious work it feels like other days. The epiphany just adds to this and lasts a little bit longer--it is why it is so coveted.

Now I know that some of you may be wondering, what exactly was my astounding epiphany? Well, even though I hate it when people do this and I apologize accordingly, my lips are sealed on that subject. I already tried to explain it once and failed, so I would be doing you a disservice to set it up to fail again. It's like when someone builds something up so much, greatness is the only thing expected. Then once the content of their tall tales is revealed, if it isn't described properly to match the built up assumption, disappointment is then quick to follow. I believe that an epiphany should be a closely guarded secret; something to tap into from your own personal reservoir of inspiration so to say for those times when none of your creativity seems to sound amazing enough. If this secret was divulged, a little piece of something special would be lost in the inability to explain it. Inspiration is not always around, but when it is, it's imperative

that we make the best of its presence and hold on to what we can to save for future bland moments--and therein lies the key to the creative process. 

[These are a couple of my art pieces; the one of the left is one I completed with Inspiration on my side; the one on the right was done because it was assigned--notice any differences?]

The Ticket

So I recently looked over my first post and saw all that had been promised forth within concerning the contents and layout of this blog and would like to clarify the turn it has taken. Obviously I have not been posting drawings or reviews for "books without pictures" as this requires time, which I don't always have. In order to think of illustrations to do, one must first read a book in its entirety, which I have not done for a few months now (consequently, I have started and not finished about six different books, but this is pretty normal for me--what can I say? I get distracted). But, I've decided not to worry about sticking with formalities; it is, after all, my blog, so I will post what I will, and that will be that.

Thus having said that...

I've been thinking about my speeding ticket lately. Is it just me, or have there been more cops on patrol lately? As I was driving to the store today, I saw about three different flashing lights. Anyways that, and the fact that my defensive driving deadline is rapidly approaching, caused me to think about the actual day when I was pulled over myself, and I had to laugh at how insignificant it all seems now, and what a big deal it was when it happened. And then I remembered that I had written an entry the night after to just get my thoughts on paper. As I read it now, I feel slightly ridiculous and feel the need to apologize for how trivial this may be for probably most who read this, but then perhaps it will be pathetically entertaining, or... something. Anyways, without further ado, my recount of my first ticket...

"Something happens to a person when they receive their first speeding ticket. As those flashing lights come up as you’re driving, a surreal feeling of guilt comes over your being as you realize that those sirens are meant for you and not some other law breaking vagabond.The world becomes more real and dangerous as you realize that yes, the law applies to you too. I am not a law breaking vagabond, or a speed demon on the roads (not really). I do prefer to go fast as opposed to a granny slow, but I automatically cease pressing down my pedal once I’m about five miles over. This was the night when my innocence was snatched away and I felt as if I had become part of that crowd. A big deal? Perhaps not. But in the eyes of an 18 year old driving not yet a full year, such an experience creates some perspective.

"I had been dreading my first speeding ticket ever since I was given my license. It happened to everybody, why would I be the exception? While there were days when I thought that perhaps I would be the perfect exception and never see those lights flash behind me, there was always the recurring question of what would it be like? In the movies and TV shows, things are much more dramatic, and the drivers always found something witty to say or were even able to get off with an excuse. As is usually the case, movies do not prepare you for real life. However, before we jump the gun to when the sirens first sounded, let’s take a few steps back and set the scene.

"It was a cold Friday night, and I had just got clocked out from my job at the local frozen yogurt establishment. Being close to midnight, I just wanted to get home, take a hot shower, and wind down. I had pulled out of the parking lot expecting to go the way I usually do, when I noticed the blockades on the road and heard the sounds of construction. The quick way thwarted, I was forced to take the winding back roads. My music was turned up loud, and I was in a daze as I made the numerous turns just going through the motions as I usually would. This night was the same as any other night. The streets were dead, and I had one last turn to go before reaching the turn in to my neighborhood. Turning at the light, I would be on this last road for less than 30 seconds before I turned again. 30 seconds. There was a car in front of me. There were no speed limit signs on this short stretch, and I unthinkingly tried to match this car’s pace. Bad idea. I pulled into the neighborhood, and then heard the sirens behind me. This was it. Those lights were for me. I pulled onto the side of the road and waited, not really believing that this was really happening to me right now.

"The cop, a large muscular guy with a bad haircut, approached my car with his official flashlight and shined it in my face--completely unnecessary. Before he spoke, I quickly ran through the reactions I had imagined for such an occasion: hysterical crying, angrily disputing the accusation, a witty banter that would make me and the cop best buds, or a polite excuse that would get me off the hook. In the actual instance, however, I felt guilty more than anything, and that probably did not help my case at all. He asked me what the speed limit for the road was, and I truthfully answered that I didn’t know. He then of course let me know, and continued to inform me that he clocked me going 53 in a 40. I didn’t dispute this, thinking that it was certainly possible I could’ve been going that fast, but there was no way to be sure. It was late, I wasn’t looking at my speedometer; I was matching the speed of that other car... that other car. I mentally kicked myself and felt resentment.

"Despite the fact that the speeder in front of me got off easy, I did not think to mention this, and simply signed and accepted the ticket. What else could I do? It certainly seemed like that was the only solution at the time. Calmly accept the ticket and drive away. As I think about it now, I realize that I might’ve been able to explain my situation and maybe get off with a warning; after all, it was my first time. Thanks to my tendency to not think well on my feet, this will always remain a speculation, and I am now forced to take defensive driving  in order to ensure that this does not go on my record--fun stuff:P

"This was not a fun situation to be in, and as soon as I started driving away the tears began to flow. It was past midnight, I was tired, stressed, and now had the feeling that I was a criminal. I now use my cruise control more than ever, and cringe every time I see a police officer. That thing that changed? I used to look at the police cars and think that we were on the same team. I used to laugh at those who got pulled over. I used to think that my record would forever be spotless. Just goes to show that despite any plans or expectations we may have, nothing is certain, and movies are not an accurate representation of reality. Big surprise."

Thank you for your indulgence in my innocent rantings on paper.

College: Is it all Worth the Trouble?

As a graduating high school senior, it shouldn't be surprising that I would be going through some kind of college application process. It is simply the thing to do. Practically every senior I know is announcing their choices, acceptances, and awards to various Universities, and parents are singing praises with them. But sometimes I wonder, is it all worth it?

Unlike my proud peers, my experience of wanting to go to college (more specifically, a snobby University) has been a topic of shame within my house. Why can't I just do as all my siblings had done before and go get my basics done at community college, and then, if I really have to, transfer to a university in town. Why must I go to college if all I want to do is start a career within the Fine Arts department? Time and time again, I am bombarded with questions and comments concerning my life choices, and it's stressful to say the least. So I put the question out there: why does the up and coming generation, which includes myself, feel a need to attend a prestigious university, when you could get by with less? After all, community college, as Dave Ramsey would say along with my father, is the logical choice to save money and graduate debt free (insert infomercial and guitar band here)!

Speaking first from my own personal observations, despite what the bad quality commercials would have you believe, community college is not where it's at. All my siblings before me went to San Antonio College for their first two years, and from what they've told me, it was not a fun experience  Credits were misplaced, the system was unorganized, people were inconsiderate, and the campus is a bit run down. This was not a place you go for an experience; this is where you go to get through and survive. People will tell me that I'm being pretentious, but it is true what they say: you do get what you pay for. Granted, I believe that community college would be wise if one simply felt a need to go to college without a clue as to what they wanted to do in life. Then that would be a good test to see which subject you felt inclined towards before writing a hefty check. But if you know what you want to major in, and can point to a career waiting for you on the other side, I would say to strive for what would be most helpful towards that goal (shoot for the moon, as they say).

The fact is, society is no longer taking people's word for it; they look for a degree, not a independent self made wild card. The Bachelor degree is the new determining factor with a lot of companies, and the Masters degree is rapidly rising up to take the cake. One of my friends told me how her brother, who is graduating with a technical writing bachelors degree, was denied a position because another candidate (who wasn't necessarily more qualified as far as talent was concerned) had a masters degree. It's all a game about who can one-up who, and money is apparently not an object for people as loans are taken out without a second thought.

On the subject on loans, I would like to say that I'm not a supporter of them. Who would be? It's not a fun process to have to endure, so why do it unless you had to? And therein lies the punch line: have to. I believe that one should exhaust all other means of financial aid  before turning to loans, but the idea that one won't take out any loans to attend college is one of ignorance. The reality is that universities are getting more and more expensive as the years progress, and America is getting poorer and poorer. While it's an unfortunate position to be in however, I think that in the long run, taking out a loan wouldn't be the end of the world. The statistics are on our side as one who earns a degree compared to those who don't earns a much larger paycheck.

Another answer as to why I would choose to get out of the house and go to a university is for the experiences and connections I would gain on the way. For practical minded people, this would be a completely foreign concept. Experience? Pah! All you need to do is get in, get your degree, and get out. I disagree, which is why I encounter so much opposition. I could've gone to public school if I wanted; that certainly would've been the logical choice as it's cheaper with more resources. However, I wouldn't trade my high school years at the small private school I've attended since Kindergarten for anything. And being committed to a school all four years is the best way to make relationships, connections, and really establish yourself, which would be beneficial to your future as well.

Advice?

Stay determined. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that you should always stick to your convictions. I'm tempted to waver as I consider all the possible failures that could occur myself, but if we questioned ourselves about everything, we wouldn't get anything done. Someone once told me that the obstacles on the way just make the success at the end that much sweeter. Stay strong; if it's meant to happen, it will definitely happen, no matter what anyone will tell you.

Really get to know your University--get personal. One of the determining factors of which University I chose was based on how much personal attention the staff was willing to provide. I mean, I would be paying an arm and a leg to go there, so the service should be good. For instance, I knew that the college which kept transferring me to automated voice messages and then calling back during school hours was most likely not going to be the best fit. Its helps to know that you'll be replied to swiftly when you're turning in important, time-sensitive items such as a financial aid appeal for instance. How will you know? Believe me, you'll know.

Scholarships...? I place a question mark on the end of this because this is a piece of advice that all will give you, but, if you're a white American, it is often worthless. I've applied to many a scholarship with no luck as of yet, but that doesn't mean I'm going to stop trying. This gives you something to do to sort of keep you going. Sure, rejection letters are no fun, but it's helpful to have a driving force to keep your mind occupied and motivated.

Prayer. It is important to keep God in the picture instead of attempting to figure it all out on your own. The decision making process is an excellent opportunity to grow in your relationship with God. Believe me, He has a better idea for what's best for your life than you will ever have.

These are the random rantings of one without sleep, so take it as you will. I won't force my ideals, as that would be the opposite of what I would hope to accomplish, but still--if nothing else, it is something to think about.