mindwanderings

Today, I walked by the quad on the way to the Admin. Building and listened to the sound of drums beating and saw people dancing in the grass. It seemed like an African tribal dance and it awed me. I watched all the people passing me by on the walkway and thought of how everyone seemed to be going somewhere; always moving, always pushing forward. I remembered Lovefest and thought of how there is no other city that I know of that would be as open as this place. I wondered if I’ll miss this place if I whole heartedly decide to move away.

Although I did just move to SF from San Diego, I don’t think I’ll be staying here throughout my college years. I’m interested in moving to Oregon not only for the change in surrounding, but for school. My family has been thinking about moving there to settle on a lake, and I think it would be a great experience to see something different than what I have known all my life. Namely, it’s the city.

Maybe it’s because I’m not “open” enough to the world around me; I should embrace what comes to me at the moment. Although Lovefest was amazing as it was, I wasn’t completely surprised and shocked. I’m thinking it’s because I expected it to be crazy and wild, and so when that prophecy came true, that lessened my bewilderment.

The thought of sitting out on a lake with the sun setting behind me sounds wonderful. It’s definitely a change from the fast paced city life and the crowded streets. I am okay with either one, though sometimes I wish I could remove myself for a second to listen to the waters move in and out along the shoreline. I visited the countryside of Illinois when I was 15 and was completely awed by the openness of life there. I saw the sky extend to the sun and stars that glistened against the dark night. It was an eye opening experience for me because I have never realized that there was life outside of the city. Many times, I yearn to be back on Lake Vermillion in South Dakota, lying on the ground, staring at the shooting stars above.

It’s funny how I wanted to be in SF for the sole purpose of improving on my writing (and gain some skills) but I don’t seem to be working on that. I think my goals of why I am here is foggy, just like the air around the city sometimes. The thing is, one could be a great writer anywhere; it’s how one can open himself up and write, letting the reader see through his eyes.

Either way, I will be okay wherever I go. Whether it is Oregon, South Dakota, or California, I’m sure I can find my place and make it feel like home. I don’t know where I’ll end up in a couple of years, but all I want to focus on right now is opening myself up to new experiences. With new places to see all the time and people coming and going, it’s hard not to feel a sense of appreciation for the beauty of life, no matter where you are at.

Early in the morning on my way to class, the sight that I saw was nothing short of amazing. It had rained the night before and the ground was wet and gray. I walked halfway across campus before seeing a soul, which was something new because there is usually always somebody wandering about. The air was a bit nippy but it was nothing that a sweater couldn’t fix. Although I was 5 minutes late to class today, I was welcomed by the beautiful day.

I don’t know anyone, really, who enjoys a good rain storm like I do. There’s something about the lack of light that captures a certain mood. I suppose the Autumn days bring about this melancholic feeling. I wonder how it is back home right now, in San Diego. I never knew a day that was horrible, life was always so merry and sunny. What a change though, to be in San Francisco where the sun barely peeks out behind the clouds. I’ve been adjusted because I knew what was in store for me. And I left home anyway.

As I was walking along the sidewalk, I noticed that the leaves left colorful imprints on the wet ground. Imprints as in, the colors of the leaves had smeared and all that was left was a bright array of colors. These are the times that I regret not bringing the Pentax up with me. I miss photography. I was never more interested in color photography than I was with black and white. There’s a serene solitude that comes with a picture left without color; it somehow captures quietness and peace. One would have to add their own color by looking at it.

Regarding my writing, what I’m planning on doing is just studying great authors and their style of writing. Maybe someday, my own will come. I just love when the words just flow; it’s one of the most beautiful thing. I can’t rush anything, I’m told, because everything takes time. Speaking of time, it’s halfway through the semester and though it can be slow at times, it’s going along steadily. Next year I’ll be moving out of the dorms into an apartment. I’ll take on a job in addition to school, of course. So, this is life, eh?

I’m off to do other things now, hopefully get in some reading time before I head off to journalism class. Although the sky seems dreary right this moment, I feel at peace and appreciative and, happy. I’m happy. What a beautiful life.