In extremis

It's been a freaking long year. I'm currently pissed off at not winning a contest I had entered. It manages to make my oversized ego vicious and vengeful. But then I'll be alright. For whatever reasons the jury didn't find my work appealing, I also contributed by doing what I'm so good at: being unfocused, inconsistent, lacking hardcore, really. I see so many of my peers succeding in various different layers. People younger than me, damn it, less well educated. But the answer is right in fron of me, I've known it for years, and now I'm so freaking ready to say it out loud. My career choices have been wrong. I shouldn't have become an Art Historian, I shouldn't have succumbed to laziness and snobbery ten years ago, but then, at age 21 what do you know, especially when those around you have more life education than formal education. I'm aware now I should have become a Linguist, I should have studied Philology or something of the sort, I should have studied harder and then go to UNAM earlier. Don't get me wrong. I'm good at what I do. I have the skill, the talent, the eye and writing and research skills to be succesful at what I do, and actually things have taken off in some ways careerwise. But still, I was at Latin class, and didn't really listen to the lecture, I just kept staring at our Belgian teacher. Hyper talented, intelligent, well-prepared, deeply passionate about her linguistic skills. I feel none of that about my career. I can commit and be good at researching, teaching and writing, but that indomitable fire of making my whole life a clebration of Art History, as in the case of many of my peers, that I cannot. Also, at age 31, almost 32 I won't go back to do a bachelor's. I have to move on, and continue to build the best CV I can, and negotiate somehow my likings and dislikings in Art History practice. By now I have sort of a trajectory in my field, and won't risk it for anything in the world... A friend of mine said that, emotionally, in many respects, I'm still 16. And she's so damn right. I've worshipped the year 1993 for a long time now, because I've idealized that year as one of the best of my life, and yes, I was 16 at the time. I listen to a lot of music most of my friends immidiately condemn and frown upon. Music "teenage" or "pubecent" girls would listen to, I'm judged... and most interesting, I don't care. I don't freaking care. Well, I'm falling asleep, better go now...