So, I figured I should probably write something other than just spew out my entire portfolio in one go and bore people with my ideas and concepts of art. Bad part is... I have no idea what a person is really meant to write on a blog. I guess I could maybe write a little bit about myself. My story.
I'm an 18 year old kid. I was raised in Monterrey, Mexico and about 6.5 years ago I moved to Hong Kong. I did the whole International School thing here in HK and actually quite loved it. Being immersed in a multi-cultural school, I got the opportunity to meet some great people from around the globe and learn about their countries, traditions, etc. That always fascinated me. My close group of friends were more diverse than those really awkward college brochures that try to show how diverse their school is by placing an Asian, Caucasian, Latino, or whatever. Yup, we've all seen those at some point in our lives. Well I actually had that.
My "group" consisted of girls from Canada, America, Australia, UK, Israel, Chile, China, Japan, Korea, and more. I loved it. Not a lot of kids get to say that but I feel really fortunate that I can.
In high school I did the whole IB system thing. Hated it. But I did it nonetheless.
I was never one for math, science... hell, I was even bad in my English classes. Art was always my thing. I could work on art for hours and wouldn't even notice the time go by. But when I would pick up anything academic based, I wanted to die (yes, I'm over dramatic that way- I'm latin).
I put all my love and energy into my portfolio during my last school year and busted my ass in HL Visual Arts. Since, I was little my dream was to go to NY and attend what I thought was the mecca of all art schools, Parsons. I did everything in my power to get there and I did it. I made it come true. But when I received that big package in the mail containing my letter of acceptance I didn't feel the rush of excitement the passion, the energy I was hoping to feel.
Do you know how sometimes you're really looking forward to something, like seeing a really good friend after a year(s) of not being in the same place. You build up this image in your mind. You think that when you see them it'll be THE BEST of the best. But when that moment finally arrives, you're disappointed. Maybe the person isn't as great as you had made them out to be in your head or they have changed. Maybe you're the one who changed. Point is, that sense of desire and excitement never occurred like you had anticipated.
That's what I felt. I was happy, yes. Not over the moon jumping around and announcing it to the world kind of happy. I was just content. I had worked my butt off and this proved it... but something felt off.
After months of deliberating my choices I decided to turn down my chance to live in the city of lights and settle for the windy city and attend a more "sophisticated" art university, SAIC. My choice was based on current ranking and let's be honest... the dorms. SAIC has the absolute best dorms in the entire universe. Grant it, I haven't seen all dorms but to me those were pure perfection. How many unis do you know have loft spaces, your own kitchen/bathroom, and studio space? Yup... this institute does. Amazing. I know.
Arriving there I knew immediately that I had made the right choice. Chicago wasn't was crammed as New York. Grant it, people did not dress as nicely but hey, I was having a fabulous time. I met really cool and funky people. I was over the moon happy. That was until a little (not so little) thing happened to me...
Right now my life has been set still due to an "incident" that occurred back in mid September. Maybe one day I'll be comfortable enough to put into words what happened but for now I'll continue being as vague just for my own sake... and my (non-existent) readers.
This "incident" really put a dent in what I thought was my version of a 'perfect and ideal' future. My plans were put on hold. My life took a toll and now I'm back in square one. Back in Hong Kong. That event in my life caused such trauma and pain that I needed to remove myself completely from anything remotely associated with that night, thus I ran back home. The furthest place I could think of from chi-town.
I've been dealt a bad deck of cards but now I am fully aware that I get to re-arrange them and hopefully set down a good hand. Everyday I struggle with the notion of feeling empty, used, and abused. I wake up hoping I'll open my eyes and it'll be September 14th and I get to change the choices I made that day. But I wake up and I'm in my old bedroom in my parent's apartment.
Everyday I get the choice of living in fear or actually leaving my bed and doing something- anything that day. I just finished reading The Perks of Being a Wallflower and there's a quote that I think about everyday."So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be."
Today I chose to forget about the sad part and just focus on being happy. I figured, this is my life now I can either accept what happened to me and move on or dwell on it and have it tarnish what I've always wanted out of life.
Okay, after writing this I've decided. I'll dedicate this blog on how I'm feeling that day and how I'm overcoming/dealing with the trauma I went through. Maybe if I write down something that helped me get over my depression that day and someone so happens to stumble upon my poorly constructed thoughts and words, they'll feel better about themselves and want to get better. Just like me. Bad things happen to everyone, everyday. We're the ones who chose how we take that and run with it.
So yes, today I chose to be happy. Hopefully, if someone out there is going through something bad like I am, choses to be happy too. Even if you fake a smile, sometimes it helps. Maybe a little but it got you through yet another day. I got through yet another day and I'm so grateful for that.