Hello, Monday! New week, new home, new(ish) attitude.
I may have a lot on my plate, here.
I’ve been waiting on some of these for what seems like ages (Player Piano!), and now (#funemployment) seems like the perfect time to enjoy them. I don’t read as much as I would like, certainly not as much as I used to, and it’s got nothing to do with time. I have all the time in the world, but I am too often distracted by computer games and Netflix binges. I’m going to make an effort in the next few months before classes start again to get away from the screen. Of course, I am currently in the midst of moving and looking for work, so everything seems hectic and busy, but I feel like that’s all the more reason to take an hour or two out of each day for reading.
What’s on your summer reading list?
Please pardon my appearance for the next while. I recently changed my site layout by literally just a smidge (is a smidge 50 pixels or so?), but I will not be resizing old photos. The entries following this one will be held to higher standards, and I apologize for being jarring to your pretty eyeballs.
My thoughts are a bit of a jumble. Not in a bad way, just… in the way.
I think it’s probably safe to say that there will be no more snow. Thank you, April. I am not sure if the last frost is behind us, but the crocuses popping up across the street at Tj’s parents’ house seem to be a positive sign. It’s hard to believe that only a year ago I was getting packed and ready for a week in Saint John. It was my first teal-blue Caribbean Sea experience, and hopefully not my last.
We don’t have an exotic vacation planned for this year, but we have been considering a small trip to Philadelphia, a canoe trip in the summer, and possibly a three-day train trip from Portland ME to Portland OR in early fall. I am not sure what this season will bring. There are many things I want to be in play by the time September rolls around, it’s all just a matter of keeping my head up. April is my starting point. It feels like there a million things I should do before I turn thirty in October, as if these things are expected of me from some unknown judgmental crowd. I blame the whole… publicly shared bucket-list phenomenon. In reality, though, it’s only what I expected of myself at a particular moment in time. I am free to tell my previous self to keep it to herself. If I choose.
They are small things, mostly. I don’t feel bad in the slightest for being unmarried or for not having children or for not currently working in my desired field. I only just discovered what my “desired field” is. In the grande scheme of the world, of course, all things in my life are small. When I look at things that way, it all seems far less terrifying. All decisions are equally important and unimportant. That doesn’t make them less meaningful, only more manageable. Which socks am I wearing today? Should I get a loan to pay for grad school, or pay it myself? Same same.
My class at Harvard is going well. I should be registering for my first real graduate level class soon. Harvard yard really comes to life as soon as the snow melts, and Cambridge is like a brand new world. I think that’s the case with most New England towns, though; you really have to experience them all year round to get to their true character.
I have decided that my focus throughout my Museum Studies education will be on Native American history and culture. I would love to eventually intern at the Abbe Museum in Bar Harbor, which is a Smithsonian extension. Museum jobs are competitive and the opportunities are fleeting, so I have absolutely no idea what this will mean in terms of a career, but I’m looking forward to diving into things in the fall. I am so, so thankful to have a supportive partner in all this. It’s a wonderful feeling, to have someone who believes you can do whatever you want. It makes me believe that, too. My self-confidence has risen on my own accord quite significantly over the last few years, as well. I am a completely different person that I was when I first began my education.
When I was first considering a graduate degree, I was feeling really bogged down my undergraduate focus, wishing that I had chosen Native American Studies over Asian Studies, but I remind myself that with that decision made, I would have never traveled to China, I would never have taken the classes that made me fall in love with learning all over again. I chose Asian Studies because that’s what I wanted to learn at the time; now I want to immerse myself in something new, something if only a fraction closer to my own heart and heritage. I still love Asian art, and I am sure that I could find an interesting scholarly pursuit in that regard, but I don’t think my heart would be fully in it.
Here are some books currently on my reading list:
- Native American Voices on Identity, Art, and Culture: Objects of Everlasting Esteem
- Shapeshifting: Transformations in Native American Art (Peabody Essex Museum)
- The Changing Presentation of the American Indian
- Women and Ledger Art: Four Contemporary Native American Artists
I have been having a lot of strange dreams about my mother lately, and I imagine it’s because I’ve been thinking about her so much. This time of year, memories are brought to the surface that were dormant through the winter months. There is just so much about her family and her history that will probably always be unknown to me, and I regret not being more interested when I was younger. But honestly, how many fifteen year old girls are interested in anything about their mothers? I will fully admit to being somewhat of a self-centered brat when it came to my mom, but I was also a teenager. I could have been better, I could have been much worse. It’s weird to think back on that as an adult. It’s tough. I imagine, maybe in another decade, it will be easier. I think a lot of what I’m currently pursuing, both in hobby and in education, has a lot to do with wanting to somehow get in touch with her (not in a spiritual way, but in a real way… getting in touch with who she was before I was around). Her interests interest me.
Thanks for stopping by. My name is Naomi, and this space is made of girldust. This blog is a picture of my comfortably scattered life on the coast of Maine. I'm trying to be a slightly better version of myself every day. I like old houses, reading, the ocean, ghost stories, and museums. You can learn a little bit more about me here. Follow along elsewhere, or get in touch: