Life is precious

I went to the mall with my dad today. On the way home this song came on. It's a favorite of my father's and it moved him to tears.


"The Walk"
by Sawyer Brown

Down our long dusty driveway
I didn't want to go
But I set out with tears in my eyes wondering
Daddy took me by the hand
Looked out at the school bus and his little man and said
"Don't worry boy it will be all right"

Chorus

Cause I took this walk you're walking now
Boy, I've been in your shoes
You can't hold back the hands of time
It's just something you've got to do
So dry your eyes I understand just what you're going through
Cause I took this same walk with my old man
Boy, I've been in your shoes

Down our long dusty driveway
I set my mind to go
I was eighteen and wild and free and wondering
Daddy took me by the hand
Looked at the world and at his grown man and said,
"Don't worry boy it will be all right"

Down our long dusty driveway
This time we both would go
He had grown old and gray
And his mind was wandering
Daddy took me by the hand
Said, "I know where we're going and I understand
Don't worry boy it will be all right"

Chorus


I asked him what was wrong.

"Nothing," he choked through tears. "It just goes so fast. You're all grown up. Life is precious, that's all."

My grandmother always said what pretty hands I had. "So young," she said. "Look at my hands; they used to look like yours.

thoughts on summer

Time passes far too quickly, and I am somewhat obsessed with this fact of life. So much so that I waste precious minutes worrying about such things, which is, of course, nothing short of insane.

Today I walked through Oakland with my mom. It was a beautiful day in Pittsburgh, one of those rare days in Western PA. And I thought about how these past (nearly) 23 years have gone by in a flash, and it only keeps speeding up. And I worry about these things. And there's nothing I can do about it.

As we go on, we remember...

I walked through campus today around 9 in the morning, going to print and turn in my final paper of the semester. CU is lucky to be located in Boulder; all graduation ceremonies can be scheduled in outdoor venues because it's sunny everyday.

I had forgotten that it was graduation day, and the major university-wide ceremony happened to begin at 9 o'clock. It was held at the stadium, which I pass on the way to my building. I watched all of the people hustling and bustling. Merchants were selling flowers and fresh leis. Students in full garb were running madly to their gates. Colorado Avenue looked as though it were hosting a yacht club convention (CU is known for its white privilege).

Pomp and circumstance was echoing from the stadium sound system. The sun was shining, but it was still cool. The morning chill had not yet burned off.

Life is forever passing. Milestones are reached every single day. It goes by rapidly. How did I end up here? I remember so well my first day of middle school, not so well my first day of elementary school. I didn't go to kindergarten. Here I am at nearly 23. My god, a quarter of my life--the slowest passing one at that--has gone by. There is no stopping, or even slowing it. And so, as incredibly cheesy as this is about to get, I really am reminded of that wise sage, Gandalf from the Lord of the Rings when he says "All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us." And that is something we all share.

overcoming space and time

Haha. The two extremely tall gentlemen at our space/place "meeting" tonight conspicuously positioned in similar fashion.





I am done teaching for the semester. Had my last classes this morning. They went well; I am very sad. I doubt I'll have another semester like this one. And I really miss them already. Silly, I know. Not one will miss me. I don't think they know the effect that they had. They really got me through a lot of downers this semester.

Sorry for all of the personal droning as of late. I'm very emotional and I don't know why. Probably because I don't hate Boulder after all, have become accustomed to it, will miss my friends from here this summer, and am terribly stressed about all of the last minute to-dos.

The aforementioned "meeting" where that photo was taken seemed to drag on forever tonight. But, the topics are interesting. They better be--it's the focus of my directed study for this summer. Questions of space and place and time and materiality. What constitutes design? Is there such a thing as authenticity (yes) and what does that look like? What do capitalism, globalization, and commodification mean for studies in the rhetoric of space and time? Any thoughts? Lefebvre, Arendt, de Certeau, and Baudrillard had a few, but I'm so done with that.
Yes, yes. Spring is lovely. Oh, for the record, IT SNOWED TODAY. Damn you, Colorado. Happy May 1st.

surrender

I think that there comes a time when people need to reevaluate. Personally, professionally, spiritually, romantically...

I don't know where I am going or what I am doing. I will say this: I feel old already. I went to a student's show over the weekend. It was a student-written and produced spoof, part of a weekend-long festival with more of the same. Admittedly, I felt more than old; I also longed for a tight-knit group of friends like those on the stage and in the theater around me. I truly don't feel that I have belonged to a group like that since high school, and for a moment, I deeply regretted my decision to leave NYU 5 years ago. But, beyond that, I realized how little time there is left for experiences like the one I was witnessing. And I appreciated this realization very much, because it made me greatly appreciate the opportunity I have to be in graduate school. It may only be tangentially related to those lovely youthful experiences I am yearning for...but it's a step closer than the working world of insurance, mortgages, and responsibility.

I didn't get my students' papers ready for tomorrow, and I feel very guilty for this. I feel a lot of everything tonight. I don't know what brought on this longing/appreciation--a bittersweetness I can't define. I, as always, am terrified of the rate at which time passes and I guess I feel defeated, but joyous for what I have been given in said passing time.