Greetings!
Well that went fast! Somehow or other it’s now the day before I am supposed to send this out and I am just getting around to writing to everyone! Yikes!
On top of just being really busy doing life stuff and doing the best I can to make progress on my work projects, I have been up since 3 am this morning so that I could take my lovely wife to the airport as she travels out of town for a few days wrapping up…that’s right, life stuff. Funny how life is full of “life stuff” isn’t it? Made up of all the things that happen in life, “life stuff” encompasses everything that isn’t work that you get paid for and makes up a solid 80% of all our brief time here on this multi-colored space marble.
You’re in for an extra special treat today folks, because I have a tendency to just ramble on and on and on when I’m feeling tired. I’m not exactly sure why words seem to come pouring out when I’m tired, maybe something in myself thinks it can get away with more when the serious part of my brain has gone back to bed for a nap.
This week, I’m going to continue on with the story that also doubles as my life as I recall it. Accuracy is not guaranteed, as science says we rewrite our memories every time we recall an event or series of events.
Questions Answered
Where did your artistic journey begin? (Part 7 - the beginning of college)
Oh no! What’s that you say? You’ve forgotten where I left off last time? That’s okay, just go read all the stuff!
Right, now where was I? Oh right, blathering away to you about the next portion of my life through the sleepy fog that is obscuring my mind on this beautiful, blue-skied, sunlit March day.
If I recall correctly, the last time I wrote about my life growing up, I left you at the end of my high school years. I had graduated and then felt a strange loneliness creeping up on me, much like a small child feels there is something ominous hiding in the closet. (I’ve come to the conclusion that the thing hiding in the closet waiting to jump out to scare you is called Adulthood. We’re just too small to realize that’s what’s actually in our bedroom hiding in the closet or under the bed.)
Well, I survived the summer in between high school and going to university. I know I worked that summer at Origanum, a health food store that no longer exists. I know I went out on Lake Champlain as much as possible. After that, I’m not really sure what transpired. I do recall that that was the year an older friend of mine “tricked” me into buying my own beer, thus making it possible for me to return regularly whenever I wanted to get beer. I was 19. Somehow, through luck and circumstance, I got to know several of the people who worked there, even though they were at least 10 years older than I was. It was how I fell in love with imported European beers. That store also disappeared years ago, change being the ever present constant in all of our lives (so you’d better learn to love it!)
Going to college was a mixed experience for me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I went now. I don’t recall particularly wanting to go though. It was just sort of expected that I was going to go. For many years I really felt I was forced to go to college. I was certainly encouraged to attend. By my parents, by several of my teachers, as well as older co-workers and relatives.
I don’t recall applying to many colleges and universities. I had applied to the University of Vermont. Mostly because both of my parents had gone there and I didn’t have any real interest in leaving Vermont. I got in. I enrolled. With encouragement from Mr. Greenwald, my high school English teacher/mentor, declared my major as English with the idea that I would someday become a book editor.
It was a little surreal. A 19 year old with 6 credits in college level physics, starting out as an English major.
Occasionally I would overhear my parents' conversations about his job. IBM was downsizing around then. My father had no interest in becoming a manager and had been promoted as much as he could be as an engineer in his department. I don’t know all the details, however it became obvious that he was becoming concerned with being forced to take early retirement with 2, soon to be 3, kids in college. So, thinking that I was helping, I offered to live at home the first year of college in order to help them save some money.
Being a great student in high school, I was 19th in my class of 189 kids, I wasn’t very concerned with college, thinking that I would be able to handle the course load without much trouble. It was a storm brewing.
As a student in the College of Arts & Sciences, technically going for a Bachelor of the Arts, I took all required classes that first year. It was much harder than I had hoped. I recall my jaw hitting the ground when the professor in my first class, Comparative Religion, assigned us 100 pages of reading for the first week. It would have been fine if that was the only class I was taking. I was a slow reader (and still am) and all the professors in all of my classes tasked us with similar assignments. It wasn’t long before I felt like I was a hunk of lead, sinking into the deep dark ocean.
In addition to the sheer volume of reading I was expected to do, professors seem to have this crazy notion that you can read their mind and figure out what information they think is important, and remember the parts they think are important. It was a real struggle. Especially since I was isolated from my peers.
I still remember finishing dinner and sitting down in my parents’ living room trying to read while they talked and did dishes. I wasn’t able to concentrate. Often I would begin to nod off with a book in my lap. I recall feeling alone and overwhelmed.
The next semester I dropped credits. I think I had enrolled in 5 classes or about 15 credits. When it came time to sign up for spring semester, I signed up for 12. It was a hard lesson and I never again took more than 12 credits per semester after that. It worked out well in the end because it allowed me to work a part-time job later in my college career.
I can’t actually remember what other classes I took in my first year at the University of Vermont (UVM) other than that comparative religion class. (If you’ve been reading my life’s stories, that is actually somewhat significant in my life. Not because I’m religious, but because there were many Eastern religions covered and I began to see similarities between Eastern Religions and my own interest in Northern European paganism.)
That pretty much sums up my first year at UVM. Confused, overwhelmed and completely lacking any real camaraderie with my peers because I lived at home.
Next time I’ll talk about my decision to move onto campus, feeling like I was able to take some courses that actually interested me, and finally meeting people outside of my classes.
News of late
- Because no website is without issues, I have been pulling from my former career as a web developer to fix layout issues that I find on my store
- I encountered issues attempting to laser burn and engrave oak earrings and so I’m attempting to run further tests to figure out what is going wrong
- It sounds like Generator VT (maker space in Burlington) wants me to do some demos during the open studio hours, so look out for demos of making reticulated sterling silver and water casting
- I recently accepted a season position at a local garden center to help bring in money while I build up my jewelry and art business
In the Works
- Ordered 18 gauge sterling silver sheet for engraved bracelets
- Figuring out why my laser tests failed and creating a series of tests to run in order to see what might be causing the issues
- Beginning a hand pierced design for a bracelet cuff
- Ordering my first sand casting kit so that I can learn how to sand cast and create jewelry from organic materials I find in the wild
Until next time,
Justin