Please allow me to introduce myself.
Name's Luís and I'm pretty much your average, world-weary, 20-year-young man. I wish I could say I was a man of wealth but I guess I'll stick with being a man of taste. I enjoy art of all kinds but I have to admit I'm not eager to bask in the modern, abstract arts with all their violent expressions, vague imagery or bled colours splayed across a canvas, of a bunch of cans welded together or a crack running through the floor. After all, art is an expression – an expression of the artist's soul. If its point and meaning is left entirely to the audience, then it is not art. It is a prop and the artist becomes little more than a fisherman, casting a line and trying to pick on alien and outside-born sentiments.
Name's Luís and I'm pretty much your average, world-weary, 20-year-young man. I wish I could say I was a man of wealth but I guess I'll stick with being a man of taste. I enjoy art of all kinds but I have to admit I'm not eager to bask in the modern, abstract arts with all their violent expressions, vague imagery or bled colours splayed across a canvas, of a bunch of cans welded together or a crack running through the floor. After all, art is an expression – an expression of the artist's soul. If its point and meaning is left entirely to the audience, then it is not art. It is a prop and the artist becomes little more than a fisherman, casting a line and trying to pick on alien and outside-born sentiments.
Most would say that I have a rather sardonic and all-pervasive sense of humor but I don't relish or enjoy it. It's amusing to see others laugh and giggle but it tires me and I wish I could be more serious. I just can't help it – it's like being stuck on automatic, your mouth speaking before your brain can stop and perk its brow at what's commng out of it. I wish I could just stop being excessively funny.
College has been, thus far, a new experience that is both cathartic and frightening. It is my first taste, albeit a bit dim and gentle, of the real world – a world where you have to chase your own goals through your own means. It's scary, much akin to not knowing where your next step will land, but it is also a learning experience. And not just in the academic sense but also on a very real, very personal manner.
On the academic side, however, it's a bit more vague than I was expecting. There's hardly a yardstick to continuously measure my progress and the quality of my work. Seriously? I never thought I would miss the torrent of monthly tests that I endured throughout my primary and secondary schooling years, but I do!
I suppose I'm still getting used to it – 'it' being the routine, the faculty and the people. I can feel my voice tangling up before I read and I kind of jump at the questions, trying to (I suppose) prove myself in one way or the other, only to, of course, fail most of the time.
But things are looking up. I am growing, both as a young adult and as a future professional, and I'm getting to know my collegues better. Hopefully I'll be able to show what I'm really capable of.
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