Changing the Lightbulb

Pretend you’re in class, or maybe at work, or heck, just doing something you enjoy. And you’re listening to someone speak, whether that be the professor, your boss, or just the thoughts in your head. And they say something that makes a lightbulb go off. Not the Eureka! kind of lightbulb that worked as soon as you screwed it in. I mean the lightbulb that you had to replace two times because first it broke and then you grabbed the wrong wattage.

The lightbulb scenario is my life right now. I’ve spent the past two and half years getting confused, turned around, and generally stressed. But since this semester began and I switched my major to Interdisciplinary Comm and Art, things are starting to make sense. The lightbulb is finally working.

It’s not like I understand life, the universe, and everything, that would be a bit much. I just mean that in my advertising class we talked about targeting and stereotypes, which came up the next day in my sociology class, when we discussed the importance of understanding culture and observing social interaction more carefully.

In my graphics class we’re learning about the elements of design and all the things that go into making posters, logos, and ads. I’m finding out that almost all of it is intuitive and I’m even able to apply techniques to my flyers for the Knifty Knitters. I never thought I would feel so comfortable in class.

I even feel more confident in the subject that has always been a constant in my college major choice. Landscape painting is proving to be a joy, and I’m starting to see how I’m influenced by my favorite artists while developing my own unique style. I’m feeling more creative out of the classroom than I have before, and I. Love. It.

To be honest, sometimes I still feel overwhelmed. I still feel like I don’t know what my future holds and please don’t ask what I’m doing after I graduate. I know a lot of my peers feel the exact same way; I know they’re under an extreme amount of pressure to figure out what they want to do with the rest of their lives when they don’t even know what they have planned for next Saturday. Success is expected and failure is not an option.

This is why the lightbulb is so important. It might not work first time, or the second, or the third. Maybe it’s a bit dim, or maybe it’s way too bright and you can’t stand the fluorescence. Sometimes the lightbulb breaks and after you pick up the pieces you stand there and think Why Me? Why Now? But when that lightbulb works, when you screw it in and it makes that connection and things begin to fall into place and suddenly life seems a little more manageable, that’s when you know you’re onto something.

And that something can lead you anywhere.

And that is where I end this analogy.

Last night I fooled around with charcoal pastel

I recently made this for Poetry Club