Friday, November 17, 2006

11/17: Another picture-less post. I've had a great run these last six months. Life's been up and down, topsy turvy, fun one minute, boring the next, with my "it's the end of the world" freakouts. Many, no, the vast majority, of hours over those months were just indescribably good--the best summer I can recall. But I've got a huge roadblock in the way of those hours or days or moments returning. I don't talk to people beyond the absolute bare minimum. So my communication level is seen as pretty poor. Why?

Well, I can only give my background--not as an excuse, but to expose my framework--and hope that it makes sense. When I was in 3rd grade I ran away from class one morning when my old scary bitch of a teacher scared me enough to do so. I was chased around the soccer field of the old Meriwether Lewis elementary school in Albemarle County by the two school shrinks. The first one, a woman, chased me through the thin woods at the edge of the field, but I was small--low center of gravity--and fast and rapidly changed directions if ever she got close enough to be a threat. Then the male came out, and he was pleasant and engaged me in conversation from the opposite side of a soccer goal. Before long my mom showed up to get me, and I went to a shrink in Charlottesville for the first of what would become a weekly visit that must've gone on for many months.

I guess I probably started retreating around then. I must have been 8. I remember ignoring the shrink, and trying to run away from those appointments too. But I went back to school, returned to being friends with everybody. Of course it was a struggle to physically get me to school, my parents had to catch me--I struggled with them almost every morning (at least in my very limited and hazy recollection), one morning I kicked my dad's windshield so hard it cracked and he had to get it replaced. I remember being miserable. But playing football during recess, always picked early, I was friends with nerds, geeks, girls, boys, rednecks, rich kids... I got along and try to get along, the teachers liked me, I did well because it was easy. Maybe it's because I rarely voice an opinion that I usually manage to get along. Hiding behind the retarded shy smile or smirk on my face.

I remember a fall night that my dad took me camping on the Skyline Drive (he cooked dinner on a gas cookstove--steak and peas) and until the last handful of years it was one of my few positive memories of the fall season.

6th grade brought a new school, Henley, from which I ran away after a few days because it was new and frightening, big, different (and stupid). That was the end of public school. A few months at an alternative school, Tandem (before it became a snooty Friends school), and I ran away again. That was fall of 1989 and I was 11. From then until I went to the Corcoran in 2002 I was out of school.

Homeschooling for me consisted of reading gazillions of books, riding my bike, running around in the woods, riding around running errands with my mom, and thinking too much. Internalizing everything. Being too smart and too full of myself. Setting up dueling Andrews in my head with whom to hold conversations. Of course I can babble, but on a consistent basis I guess I don't hold up my end during times where conversation (talk between two people) would normally occur. That's recently been pointed out as hugely frustrating.

Now I find myself having publicly and loudly set a big old goal of living in Spain within the next few years, and want to do that, but I also know that things come up and plans and goals change and shift as other things pop up. And all these thoughts I've had in my head regarding that sort of thing have not been vocalized, but because I've thought them so many times I assume they're common knowledge to people I like. Of course they're not.

For me a goal is not necessarily something to actually reach, but to keep a steady distance behind, so that one is always in motion, not getting static--for instance, learning Spanish won't require me to live in Spain (I will travel there, possibly for an extended time, but it will be very hard to actually live there and work), but it will allow me to communicate with a large portion of the U.S.'s population--but if I don't have a giant goal out in front who's to say I'll try to follow through on learning and stretching my brain.

I think most people I consider my true friends don't really have any inkling of who I am. That's not a knock. I've gotten stuck so deep in my head that I don't know who I am... so I just have to trust that there's something good (or close enough) that will return me to my surface and let me stop being a moody bastard to people I want in my life. Whatever. I've spent so many years silent and lonely and switching between caring immensely and being indifferent and apathetic about everything that I just don't know when to speak up when I'm really bothered by something.

Spending the last six months with a girl, but not WITH that girl at the same time, has shown me a lot. Mostly good. But also a lot of stupid stuff about me. And if I just ended that good thing, I'm a dumbass, but maybe (I doubt it in this instance) change is good (as good as being happy? Probably not.). Maybe I'll get motivated to find something else to obsess over--like photography. Who knows. Broadcasting confusion on the blog. So that the dozen people who look at it regularly will wonder what's wrong with me. Ha. Nothing's wrong. I'm the same as I always am. Just communicating the only way I can. In silence. To primarily myself. It's kind of funny. Sometimes I refresh my own blog page to see if anything's changed. Hehe. Anyway.

I'm a 28-y/o art school grad, a photographer who professes to play bass despite not having played much in four years, and rarely with a live band (mostly rocking out with ye olde stereo), and have no great ideas about what I'm doing. Period. Paying the bills. Barely. Probably going to be missing hanging out with that girl really soon. At least I enjoy my jobs. Climbing trees pays twice as well as my gallery work, but I learn stuff and am exposed to new stuff every day at both of those jobs, which are my main sources of income--so I can't complain about them! That's the end of my blather. Peace.

7 comments:

mike said...

holy crap! do i have to read all that?!

eric said...

just get a digital slr

corey said...

You're the best Andrew, and we all care about you so much.

mike said...

I agree w/ corey even though I still haven't read all of that.

&rew said...

yaaaaar.

wendy said...

hey, i know a guy/girl. he/she likes outdoors and adrenaline is in working order. just saying.

alexis said...

i read it all!