Thursday, February 24, 2011

fill in the blanks.

You ever go through periods of time when you seem to have lost all emotion and reaction to everything? I’ve been feeling like the entire world is moving around me and I’m sort’ve just functioning in my own space and time. I can’t recollect a single significant thing that has happened to me this week. I can’t recall the last momentous spike of any given emotion. No trace of reminiscence or outlook to the future. It’s like every second is passing and I’m merely just.. existing through them. Simple phase of intense apathy? Or a testament to something missing in my life? When my emotions come riding back on my train of thought I’ll let you know what I find out.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

I really miss being a student. Anyone who remembers me from high school may call bullshit, but contrary to popular belief I actually really enjoy learning. The truth is I was just completely over the high school scene from day one. There was just so much I hated about it. Picturing the physical appearance of my high school- something I don’t enjoy doing- leads me to realize how strongly it resembles a correctional facility. Just add a barbed-wire fence and a watchtower and there you have it. And the people.. Don’t get me started on the people. The obnoxious teenagers and equally obnoxious teachers who treated you like.. teenagers. Not to sound pretentious; it just obviously wasn’t my crowd. So being the person I was (still am?), I didn’t like it so I stayed away. But if I could have rounded up the group of people whose company I did enjoy- who were possibly the only great things that came out of high school- and the very few teachers I could tolerate (and vice versa), ventured off deep into the woods and held private lessons ‘Once Upon a Forest’ style, I probably would have enjoyed the whole experience considerably more.

I’ve had only one brief encounter with college life, and I really loved it. Granted it was an English class- a subject which I’d enjoy regardless- and the professor was easily likeable. But, I enjoyed everything about that one semester. Walking campus was such a breath of fresh air compared to high school. I was surrounded mostly by quiet, well dressed adults who were willingly paying money to be there, seeking an education rather than head in the stairwell. I know- look at this college noob conjuring up this image of some higher-education-utopia. I’m sure it has its generous share of grievances; I just feel it’s way more my style. Many people my age are beginning to outline their careers and map out their game plan for the working world, but I decided to be stubborn and now I’m working in reverse. Hopefully the cards start playing in my favor soon, because Lord knows I am WAY overdue for a decent hand. Until then, this working stiff will keep on dreaming: Erine Canlas, ___________, Class of ____.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

unwired.

I was browsing amazon for a new leisure-read when, mostly due to the immediate effect of good marketing, I thought for a quick second that I possibly wanted to invest in a Kindle. Then I immediately came to my senses realizing that a) I don’t read nearly enough to justify the purchase of such a product, and b) I suddenly, as in, within a matter of 30 seconds, formulated an entirely new schpeal which has led to the making of this blog entry. I’ve realized, or realized further than I already did, that the imaginings of the past are now surfacing into reality. EVERYTHING is adopting a digital version, most of which are becoming the norm rather than the alternative. Cameras, books, sex, CIGARETTES! What previously-timeless novelty is still available in organic form these days? It’s not that I don’t recognize or benefit from the spectacular world of technology. I think it’s just the angsty, wannabe-artist in me that wants to argue in defense of the once tangible pastimes of the world.

I fear the possibly imminent extinction of that beautiful, ghostly sensation that comes from paper and ink. The way the pages of a book yellow and wither at the edges, and how they stack haphazardly on desks, collecting dust and history; a book can sometimes tell a story of its own before you even get into its pages- inscriptions inside covers, rips, stains, wiggly spines and fraying fibers. There’s something magical in a collection of books. What would ‘Beauty and the Beast’ be if instead of the Beast revealing to Belle the magnificent library he pulled a Sony e-reader from his back pocket? My grandmother used to have a bookcase filled from end to end with every issue of National Geographic spanning the duration of probably ten years. I was mesmerized just at their existence alone. I would sit in front of the shelf and read the ascending dates filed one after another. I would run my hands across the bumpy scale of glossy yellow spines, some yellows a little darker, some a little brighter. The collection alone was just beautiful. As convenient as it is to have your subscription of Nat Geo delivered automatically to your ipad, I just don’t think that accessibility could ever trump the brilliance of my grandmother’s collection.

I guess I’m just trying to remind people of the wonderment in things you can hold and touch; pages you can flip and things that can age along with you instead of preserving in megabytes and pixels. When’s the last time you made a photo album? And I don’t mean a geo-tagged, facebook album.. I mean those things piled high in your parents’ basement filled with timelines of your childhood pressed between sticky pages. When’s the last time you sent a postcard? I recently received one from a dear friend while she was studying in France, and it’s amazing how this little piece of cardstock can go such a long way- geographically and metaphorically. I mean, think about it- this traveled from some quaint gift shop in Nantes, through postal services, on planes, and now I have a piece of France laying on my beside table. An email just doesn’t seem as significant, does it?

I know technology is the way of the world. It’s the grounds of modern-day society, and I’m pretty sure we would all crumble to pieces without it. But let this be just a small reminder of all things tangible. It’s silly of me to think these novelties will ever truly die, but I’d like to raise some awareness anyway. I just hope that 40 years from now, in the backseat of my grandchildren’s flying cars, there are still a few magazines and a good book to be found.