About one month ago, I had the distinct pleasure of checking my application status for the UT art history program while my mother-in-law and aunt-in-law were visiting. Two minutes away from jetting out the door to dinner, I was gobsmacked by the reality that I didn't get in.
Five years of master-planning my curriculum and dreaming of my life as an art history major (oh, to make $30,000 for the rest of my life! SUBLIME!) down the crapper. Awesome.
With our guests in town, and my own extraordinary talent of brushing my emotions under the rug, I was able to keep a stiff upper lip about everything. Yet when they left, here I was, confronted by reality.
The Reader's Digest condensed version of all of this is that I have decided to pursue art and art history as a hobby. I have decided to continue with my volunteer work at the Austin Museum of Art downtown (AMOA), and have decided to keep my hands in as many cookie jars up there as possible...because I like cookies.
It's weird to think of art in this different context. Art will not cause me to rack up student debt, nor will it pay my bills. Instead, it will be nothing more than a delightful pleasure for me; it will be a place to rejuvenate my soul and ponder the realities of life. If all of that sounds mighty lofty, I have five words: get thyself to a museum! Simply put, art is capable of doing just that.
I think back to high school, when I aspired to being a music ed major, and teaching high school band for the rest of my life. I very quickly realized that there were very necessary aspects to being successful in that area that, frankly, I hated - practicing my instrument being one of them. It's not that I hate practicing, per se; it's that I hate the stress and repetition of rehearsing for some audition or gig or recital. Blargh. As soon as I opted not to go down that path, my pleasure in music grew tenfold. The idea of practicing when I wanted to? Incredible. So, with the art thing, perhaps I should be grateful for not getting in. Perhaps this way, art will never lose its lustre with me.
Almost immediately after finding out that I was jilted by the UT College of Fine Arts, the first thing that came to my mind was, well, I guess I can be a nurse now.
What the crap, right?
Here's the backstory: for about the last ten or so years, I have felt a very strong calling to the medical profession - most specifically, to being a doctor or a nurse. The human body fascinates me - I mean REALLY fascinates me, but I think the idea of learning all of that fresh out of high school was a little daunting. At that point, I still figured that I did not have a brain capable of internalizing science, and I believe that, largely, it's not because my brain was incapable, but I just didn't see the allure in science at that point in my life.
So, for the past decade or so, I have been living vicariously through others: reading medical articles for fun, listening to Doctor Radio during my spare time (no, really.), and feeling pangs of jealousy every time I would meet someone who was a real or aspiring medical professional. Anyone who has ever lived vicariously through another knows that this is deeply satisfying for awhile - no risk, but a small portion of the rewards! It is for those same reasons, however, that after awhile, vicarious living turns out to be deeply dissatisfying.
I also feel like that whole time, I had been making excuses to myself: Doctors and nurses have no personal life! They never see their families! All they do is watch people die all day! Bedpans! (need I say more than "bedpans?") These miniscule excuses, when gone over in rapid-fire succession in my head, amounted to being one big clump of obstacle, and compelled me to call upon my Olympic-grade ability to, again, shove what I was feeling under the proverbial rug.
Not getting in to the UT art history program was a huge let-down for me. At the same time, I can not help to believe that this was the universe's (and by "universe," I mean "God") way of grabbing me by the shoulders, shaking me, and saying all of your excuses are gone now. GO DO THIS!
The irony in all of this is that my application essays for UT turned out to be quite prophetic. One prompt was to write about an experience with a work of art/exhibit/place that profoundly affected me. To that, I wrote about seeing the "Body Worlds" exhibit - a museum space filled with preserved human bodies, organs, tissues, etc. That, coupled with a recent successful experience in a Biology for Majors class, caused me to want to study the synthesis of art and science. Funny that I did not choose to write about seeing the Barnes collection at the Kimbell when I was twelve, eh?
The other essay prompted that I write about any personal experience. After struggling to come up with an idea, I leaned on that old sage writer's advice to write what you know. I wrote my second essay on what I have learned about flexibility in life, the main idea being that if you are open to the universe, experiences will come your way and forge you into a multi-faceted human being. It sounds contrived, but that seems to be the one thing that the universe has been trying to cram down my throat over the past year - being flexible in my life, and learning to roll with the punches. In other words, I can't control everything, and the ride will be a lot less bumpy if I just surrender to that notion. Novel concept, isn't it?
So what now?
I have decided to go ahead and pursue a career in nursing. I am taking some pre-requisite classes over the summer (anatomy and physiology again! HOORAY!), and hopefully, in a year or less, I will be able to apply to the nursing program, and graduate with my RN in two years. That's the plan for right now, but I am OK with being open to whatever else falls into my lap in the meantime. Flexibility, you know.
I went to school yesterday morning to take a pre-assessment for registering for the anatomy class. I assume this is to weed out the "non-serious" students from the more studious ones. I knew the test would cover "basic high school biology material," and figured that I would be good to go without any studying beforehand.
WRONG! The test was HARD!
So, I spent most of yesterday making a nice stack of flashcards, and thanking God that I didn't trash all of my Biology tests/notes/handouts. My flashcard stack...she is a formidable one...almost four inches high.
The relief in all of this is that as I have been reviewing things, my Biology brain is coming back to me. Trying to become familiar with the cell respiration cycle is a lot easier the second time around, though I still cringe at the very words "Kreb's cycle" or "acetyl coA." ATP no longer means adenosene triphosphate to me; instead, it is now known simply as "aggravating to process!" Oxidative phosphorylation is something that I haven't thought about in about 18 months, but my goodness, I'm glad it hasn't stopped in me (or any of you!) during that time!
I will go and take the test again on Friday morning - am feeling like I will pass it this time! Until then, it is back to the world of carbohydrates, proteins and lipids; back to the world of mitochondria and their christae; back to the world of enzymes and substrates, lock-and-keys, and all of that stuff that fascinates me so.
The idea of starting this blog is to sort of chronicle my road to nurse-dom. I'm sure it will be much more interesting when I get into clinical stuff (maybe some real-life bedpan stories!), but for now, it is what it is. C'est la vie.
