"Part of where I'm going, is knowing where I'm coming from."
Yesterday I was at the studio having my family portrait taken, as part of my eldest sister's graduation from the university.
I wondered if I am next. Quite unlikely, if you ask me.
I was back at college today and had a nice, long chat with the new art tutor (All art tutors love me. It's a fact. Except for the ones in primary school.) She had a classmate who didn't do well for the examinations. One day, she packed her bags and left for UK. Quite a wandering nomad, she said. Got into Goldsmith and had lessons with those scholars. Came back after several years. Quited teaching after a year and apparently, she's now a mum with several kids. She said I should do that one day. Pack my bags and go to New York, like I always wanted to.
Two days ago, I celebrated Shanice's 19th. I am turning 20 in a few months time, by the way. This age thing. Will I feel the same as I did now with the past when I am 25? I feel old just being a returning alumna back to my old college yet it wasn't that long ago when I left the place. Why was I so eager to shed away my past, my juvenile history so quickly, I wonder. I still feel like a kid inside sometimes. As much as I celebrated my carefree innocence, I want to break free and ride the waves. I've got big plans I am dying to execute. And sometimes I fear that like a boomerang, I may just come back home, settle down and carry on my legacy, start a family. But wouldn't it be nice to have someone you can grow old with, to drive down the east coast with on a Sunday with the kids, have Mcdonald breakfast and go to the airport to see the planes fly up high to the sky?
I love my family. And I am so darn proud of my eldest sister. She made it.
No comments:
Post a Comment