Where do I start?
It’s my second year of taking Media Studies and second chance to unleash my creative side from my head to actual, tangible reality. Last year I was working with my team. This time the entire creative process is in my hands. Will I even get a chance to be heard?
I’ll be completely honest with you: I don’t have the energy nor motivation to dedicate myself to this blog. If only I could have left at this exact moment, then maybe I would have. I put enormous amounts of effort and expectations into my AS project and the construction process as a whole, and the “objective measure of a subjective matter” such as my film and blog received an incredibly low mark with which I do not agree. There is no “appeal” in a blog project, so I am about as good as useless when it comes to expressing an opinion about something as subjective as “personal preference.”
That said, that D that I got doesn’t fail me in art. And it never will. All artists who try to preserve and distribute their work are hopeless romantics, blinded by the idea of creation so much so that the concept of failure is secondary to living your truth.
I grew up surrounded by art since the day I was born; it was predetermined in my family because I am a third-generation artist. I was exposed to hearing my mother’s music practice coming from my bedroom wall approximately 12 hours a day. By 10 years old, I might well have become a decent teacher myself. Sometimes I even burst into her class at times with my “professional and extremely relevant opinion.” If you think this artistic chaos stopped at my grandparents’ house, little did you know: my grandmother is a 73-year-young prima donna still giving concerts and existing in endless delight. Did I mention that she also has around a dozen students? Yes, you’re right, I absolutely adore her — if I could switch places with anybody, it would be with her.
With such a “definitive” background, how could I possibly do anything other than be on stage at the ripe age of 4? Vocal contests resented the sight of me coming along, as they didn’t even have an official age category to put me in… (good anecdote: I sang the same lyrics twice and still won second prize in the 6–9 y.o. category). After that moment in time I never really quit. Hundreds of contests and thousands of shows on a strict weekly schedule. But my need for self-expression was also not fulfilled entirely by singing and performing. At the age of 5, I began an 11-year run at a local music school, studying piano, solfeggio, music theory, and even getting a leading spot in a professional child’s choir. Four to five hours, twice a week, for 11 years — all buttoned down. Important mention: I was never forced to attend any of my after-school programs. I loved everything… school and a “peaceful lifestyle” being exceptions!
Flash forward: I also enrolled in karate and judo, English classes, visual art school, and dance! My life was big, beautiful chaos, with not even a minute to spare for childhood or school. My parents didn’t resent me as I clearly displayed my abilities and interests.
This beautiful story had to collapse at some point, right? Well, it did..
Since I was so focused on performing my role, I didn’t have time for socialisation. On a podium at “just another” contest, it is lonely. The excitement had gone, as being “the best” became the bare minimum expectation that my family and I held. Complete burnout and time without any mental clarity was happening simultaneously with another experience that changed the lives of many — mine included.
War.
I had no other choice but to abandon my life and all that gave meaning to my existence. Or maybe… the chance to start over?
“The only way you escape competition is through authenticity, because no one can can outdo you at being you.”