And a person should celebrate everything passing by

2 Aug

As of tomorrow, it will have been three months since I’ve last posted- where on earth has the summer gone?! I can hardly believe time has slipped away from me so quickly. I hope you’ve all been enjoying the summer as much I have, and thanks to everyone who’s kept checking back here to inevitably disappointing results.

For the first month or two of summer, I really wanted to post. I had this vision that instead of posting once or twice a month, once summer hit I’d post once or twice a week. At my busiest, I felt like I had a lot to say but no time to write it down. Naturally, though, after finals I turned into a couch potato, devouring two seasons of Cougar Town (shameless Cougar Town plug- WATCH IT! Literally the funniest show on TV), a few seasons of Will & Grace, and countless documentaries and memoirs (take note: The Smartest Guys in the Room, Jesus Camp, Nursery University, Inside Job, Bossy Pants, Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother– all worth watching/reading!) in about a two week period. After I came out of my multimedia coma, I felt revitalized and rejuvenated, ready to write. And yet I couldn’t.

I tried- I have about four half-baked posts in my dashboard at the moment- but I couldn’t seem to capture the societal unrest that fueled  my other posts. I just didn’t care. I wanted to care, but wanting to care only got me so far. It was only then that I discovered the oxymoron of the tortured artists: for the most part, people want to become artists because creating makes them happy… and yet they can only create when they’re in the midst of some sort of personal crisis/depression/unhappiness. How does that make sense? I love writing this blog, and I love sharing my opinions, but I can’t seem to have my cake and eat it too: I can’t both love my life (like this girl! Watch and love, people) and express coherent analysis on… well, anything.

I just tried to write a really ~deep post about the tortured artist oxymoron, but I just had to stop and delete it because it sucked. The long and short of it is, I haven’t written because I’m happy. Happiness makes us complacent, because it just seems logical not to question the good things (anyone catch the  Studio 60 reference that I (kind of) side-stepped?); if we keep doing whatever we’re doing, nothing will change, and therefore we’ll be happy forever. Moreover, past experiences have proven that a further investigation into practically anything good oftentimes reveals things that corrodes its gilded surface.

So I’m not going to investigate. For now, I choose to unplug. I’m not sure why I have to be mildly unsatisfied with my life to write, but that’s okay. I think that’s what I’ve taken away from this summer- sometimes, it’s better not to have all the answers. Sometimes it’s better not to even try. Sometimes, it’s better just to sit back and enjoy the ride, and bask in the warm summer sun. (I’m curious, though- why do YOU all think artists need to be unhappy to create their best work?)

And so, I am forced to admit that I am the tortured artist I try so hard not to be- it’s hard for me to come up with well-thought out, intelligent, cohesive opinions when I’m too busy being happy. The energy for these blog posts comes not necessarily from passion, as I’d like to believe, but unrest with The System. The camp I’m working at ends on Friday, and with it goes a large source of my happiness (as those of you who know me know, literally nothing makes me happier than summer camp). I like to think I’ll be able to combat the summer lethargy to crank out a few more of these before I head back to school, but who knows? The next best thing might be right around the corner.

PS: Worry not, readers, for I’ll be back in full force in 3 weeks or so. I’d love for you to be here when I return.

PPS: 10 points to whomever can tell me what show/song this post title is from (without Google’s help)!

Happy summer, everyone!

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