FROS13 FWA

I don’t know man, I really don’t. I thought I was going places; I was going to make it big. Then it all went away. I don’t even know what happened. It seems I should go home and tell my mom I’m a failure, that I wasn’t good enough. But that won’t do. I’m not a failure. How can I fail if I haven’t even attempted anything? Yeah, I was going to make it big, but make it big in what? I never had a plan, but more importantly I don’t think I ever wanted a plan. Maybe just hanging on to that sentiment was enough. Hanging on to the feeling that I was making a difference was fulfilling. And I never really cared that I wasn’t actually doing anything. And I don’t really care now either, to be honest.
I guess sometimes you ask yourself questions that you already know the answers to just to feel better. I just want to live my life. I want to have fun with my family and friends, the people I care about, and not worry about much. But there’s so much to worry about, and I just can’t bring myself to worry about it. Getting an education so I can get a job to support me is something that I should probably find important. I don’t find it that important at all.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying the world doesn’t need progress. The key to moving society forward is definitely education. But does that mean that everyone is cut out to push society forward? I don’t think so. It’s definitely not for me. Some might say that makes me a bad person. Maybe it does. But is education really the only way? As a society we’ve become so focused on technology and progress, on money, that we’ve forgotten our fundamentals. People don’t seem to enjoy life the same way I do.
Maybe it’s just a problem of the times changing. Maybe I’m just bad with keeping up. But I don’t really need to keep up. It should definitely be reasonable for everyone to coexist, leading different types of lifestyles, but it’s becoming harder by the day. Society has a way of making us focus on things such as getting a degree, or settling down. I just want to adventure. I want to experience the world in its natural state, to go around having exciting experiences, meeting interesting people. Granted, it is definitely possible to do these things in today’s society, but it still doesn’t warrant a sense of carefree-ness. Yeah, I think I just made up a word, but it’s accurate.
I guess I’ll just have to deal with it. Maybe it’s just a problem of me not experiencing enough yet. There’s probably something that I’ll find enjoyable. That’s part of the reason I’m even in college. I’d be content with just a regular job, just getting by, but I really want to gain more perspective. I’m sure everything will work out.

The piece that I liked the most at the Rubin museum was the Lotus Mandala of Hevajra. To be honest, at the time I am writing this, I don’t even completely remember what it looks like. I also don’t know what its actual religious meaning/purpose is. All i remember is that it looked cool. It was such a complex piece yet it wasn’t very large, which made me think of all the hard work that the craftsman had to put into it. There were many elements to it, but it was simple. It presents a powerful image from the moment you look at it. I think it was the most beautiful piece there.

I migrated from China with my family on May 28^th, 2009. Life has been changed when I moved to America since everything was totally different as in my hometown, and I felt that was most challenging time of my life. This took me a long time to acclimatize the new environment. After one year, everything was getting on the right track, but I felt certainly responsible to myself and my family. At present, I have to take care of my children, and think of their future, and I don’t have that much free time. I need think how to feed my children and my family. I know my mother is exhausted with my children, when I go to school, she need to take care them. I really appreciate about my mother’s sacrifice. In addition, I don’t think that I am good-tempered. I was not that respect to my mother, especially when I was so tired. It is impossible for me to sleep very well at night, and so many things I need to be response, so does my mother. Sometimes, I just felt which way is belong to me? How can I choose my life? Is that right way for me? Do I need to keep in that way? Where is my future? And so on… I know that is the life I have been chosen, there is no way to whip round, and it is useless to regret. In fact, I know that is not so good, but sometimes I just couldn’t control myself. I really felt sorry about that. I don’t want my mother felt unhappy. She sacrifices herself for our family so many years, without any complain. How about me? For now, I did not give back anything to her, except burdens. When I asked her, what do you want? Her answer always is as long as you all fine with everything. Then I will tell her, if one day, she leaves, how can I alive without her. My mother is most important than every person, and everything for me. I love her.

I am someone who has no major problems in life. Both my parents are good to me; they are strict but fun and understanding. I did not have to go through the troubles they did growing up. In a way, I wish I did endure such difficulties. I wish I grew up in the projects instead of a somewhat good neighborhood. I wish I had boy trouble in high school and had my heart broken so I could understand most girls my age. I wish that I was social, went to parties drinking alcohol. I wanted to do so many things and excel in them. But no, I have too much common sense and a mind that was raised to think before acting. I got into fights with boys and befriended boys but never really attracted them. I graduated high school never having a boyfriend. I did not really talk unless I was spoken to first. Whenever a boy showed the least bit of interest, I got very weird and my guard was standing, protecting me from them. I have never been superb in anything I have done. I have been dancing since I was five years old and developed a passion for choreographing. Yet I am not great at it, or at least I think so. When I moved to California in my junior year of high school, I felt empowered. Although I did not make friends, people thought I was excellent at dancing and that I was dangerous for coming from Brooklyn, New York. Moving back made me feel a little better—I guess I was still high on being empowered from my California classmates. It made me appreciate myself more and where I came from. It boosted my confidence. I even opened up to boys…and got my first boyfriend after I moved back.

This boy named Alberto had made my mind go crazy since the seventh grade. We attended junior high school together but we never talked; but we were aware of one another. I was not aware that I had a crush on him. I just liked to look at him and something was telling me that I needed to know him. In seventh grade, I saw him in the park I lived by with a friend. His friend recognized me and called me over to hang out with them. Them being boys, they started swinging on these bars (that were not meant to be played on). All of a sudden I see Alberto lose his grip and fall, breaking his wrist. And what did I do? I laughed. I did nothing but laugh, not because I thought it was funny. I am not sure why I laughed, but I did. It was the first time I was really ashamed of myself. I realized what happened and I was mortified. He probably hated me. All hopes of me trying to talk to him had vanished. Thinking back today, I don’t know why I hadn’t said anything to him sooner than last year. A few years later, when Facebook became big, we became Facebook friends. But we did not say one word to each other. I still sort of liked him and felt a pang in my chest when I saw that he was in relationships. Then last year he posted one of those pictures that read “like three of my pictures if you’ve ever had a crush on me.” So what did I do? I liked three of his pictures and BAM! Eight months later, my middle school crush is my boyfriend.

I really appreciated the uniqueness of the different works presented in the Rubin Museums. It was difficult to narrow down the pieces I liked because I actually learned a lot from being there. I have learned the meanings of paintings and models that I have seen all my life but have never understood. What stood out to me the most was the Nepalese Technique of Hollow Metal Casting; the process of creating model Tara. Being an art major early in high school, I like to see how certain things are crafted and constructed. The images created a step-by-step process that catches the eye of artists everywhere. I thought it was very creative and intriguing that they demonstrated each phase of the model and provided a written description of the process. I found the piece to be very inspiring. In addition to this, I thought that the production of the model made it more special considering the symbolism it contains to certain cultures. It makes me want to study more on the cultures where this model is valued heavily.

I have been into many museums concerning history before. But this one, in my opinion, was the best. All the art work there was associated the Tibetan culture. And it was very nice to be able to look at all of them. Out of all the artwork, I really enjoyed going into the Tibetan Shrine Room from the Alice S. Kandell collection. It was such a soothing place. I stopped thinking about all the work and tension and just focused on the shrine room. Its a great place to just sit and relax. I would like to go back there one day.

Yet another glass of white wine, another shot of that delicious liquor, a sip of that single malt whiskey I like I deliver to yet another table full of now familiar faces. I have been serving them all night, and they were not the most easiest guests to satisfy with their three Michelin star needs, but, you know, the bartender becomes everyone’s comrade later during the night, a few drinks on, they are now, content. It is what makes them laugh, others unscrupulously smile over the site of yet another strolling towards the restroom, and hosts cry when they’re presented with the bill – Alcohol,­ your other best friend: the life of a bartender in an Italian restaurant.

Not that I was an addict, which I by the way could have easily been in an environment that relieves stress, anger or pain with and is built upon the powerful grounds of alcohol itself. Sadly, for many it is the paved way to profitable sales for the business and at last a feeling of relaxation for the individual, both have a hard time functioning without.

Bartending and serving was the perfect job for me: a lot of work; a lot of different people; a lot of room to be the perfectionist; I truly enjoyed the responsibilities and freedoms I was given to make the most out of my time at the restaurant or, actually, to basically live for the job really.  When you work at a restaurant amongst the most visited places are the local pub, clubs, wine-cellars, wholesale businesses, occasionally your own bed, and of course the venue you work at. Yes, what a lovely time I had. Didn’t really mind the climbing gratuities as well.

It must have been about the third time I told my boss (who I happened to became good friends with) I was about the quit and move abroad/on, only this time I did. OK, perhaps I am a bit erratic, but I just rather do fun stuff impulsively instead of planning on them ten weeks ahead…   I lost my heart to so many peoples, places and events, but who was going to help me find it back again? Well, it’s me. It is me who stuffed his life full with more or less exciting and interesting stuff, but again Stuffed, too much – stuff. A big pile of sugary candy I bit myself threw, delicious ‘til the end, but sometimes heavily damaging my wisdom tooth’s and blocking my view from what I’d truly love to do.

I have never been in a place of historical interest before. Though it sounds weird visiting Rubin museum was first of his kind in my life. The museum was all about Tibetans history and about Buddhism. Among the pieces of art in that5 storied building, the Tibetan Shrine Room attracted me most. It was such a calm place, all on a sudden I just felt like I left all my hectic life behind. The collection of souvenirs and metal statues were so eclectic. And above all, the enchanting playing slowly in the room can take anybody to a level of meditation. Each of the paintings on the wall was holding a religious message. I am thinking of visiting it once again with my friend because I did not have much time on that day.

The art piece that I chose is called “Cave Painting” by Isca Greenfield-Sanders. The piece is basically a an image from the inside of a cave which is completely black and has four men who you can make out because the light reflecting into the cave draws out their shadows. I gravitated towards this piece because it reminded me of Plato’s “Analogy of the Cave.” The Analogy of the Cave is a story of a group of prisoners who live in a cave where they are chained by their necks and feet to only face a wall. Behind them is a fire and behind the fire is a wall. On top of this wall are statues that are being controlled by another group of people behind them. These statues are casting shadows on the wall of the cave and the group of prisoners who see them try to make sense of what is going on in the images. One of the prisoners though is released and gets to go out and discover the real world, everything outside the cave. The Analogy of the Cave is interpreted to be the lesson that one’s knowledge is based on the world around them and it is part of their responsibility to venture outside and discover the greater and unknown aspects of the world.

http://grooveshark.com/#!/playlist/Peace+s+Music/83642990

I love music and I like to dance so I couldn’t pick just 10, more and more songs kept popping into my head. It goes to say that isn’t unusual to see me singing and dancing to myself, I can’t help it sometimes. Sometimes I wonder what life would be like without music and inwardly I cringe because maybe I’m exaggerating or being over-dramatic, but I can’t even imagine a world without music and just thinking about a place without any at all seems horribly boring and barren.