This week marks an insignificant, but novel, event in my life. I am taking my first mini-term. In 5 days flat (starting yesterday, ahem) I will complete an entire course on Intro to Fine Arts. Thrilling.
While I have said some things in class that might have made eyes roll, perhaps because I'm a couple years older than most of the class or because I'm sliiiiiiightly interested in those things called the fine arts, I stand proud tonight, after the second day of class, of my interjections and lack of fear in discussing the meaning of art and "my reaction" to several pieces of top-notch visual art and one single e.e. cummings poem.
The dangerously large mountain that I just whisked out of a molehill should topple here. In any case, so far it has been enjoyable to hold brief conversations with students I would never had met, and relive the torture of group projects and weird class presentations.
To top off the grandeur of this mini-term we will each present an original piece of art. A poem that has been brewing in my head for some months now will finally be let out of it's cage. I humbly and earnestly hope that I do not disappoint myself with it.
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