Autumn in Chicago

I finally got a membership to the Art Institute:

This new home away from home. Seeing paintings and an old friend made things better.

Although Judge Cardozo is a good storyteller, I got a little sick of reading his prose. Good thing the law library stocks periodicals and comfy chairs so I read a creativity article in one of the summer The Atlantic magazines. Reading Andreason's article brought me back to the 10th grade when I read her Brave New Brain book and aspired to be a neuroscientist. Always astonished at how my life had turned out. Anyway, she was trying to figure out the characteristics of creativity by studying creative people such as writers and scientists. I was glad to see she deems scientists creative, but I was irked when she compared such creative people with non-creative types--such as lawyers. Well, to be fair, she did say we generally perceive, as a society, that lawyers are not creative, which is different from, I suppose, saying that lawyers are not creative. Still, I am finding that what making all this bearable is that I get a glimpse of creativity in law and look forward to a life of creativity. I guess we don't think of lawyers as creative people but we also don't like to think of lawyers as creative because we like the illusion of the law being, well, certain as opposed to, creative, which sounds a little sketchy or unethical. But outside of the lovely bluebook, there are no answers... this 1L is beginning to see. This is scary but not at all surprising. There are many stories and I am glad the law allows for all and leaves room for interpretation.

Autumn and its colors. Beautiful but sad.

Law school.

Law school is a blast but I am entitled to whine...

"ugh. Why is this dissent longer than the majority opinion??" This demonstrates a micro-form of the need to let go of certain expectations in law school. Just as I thought I almost got through this last case for Monday's class reading, you hit a wall of freaking dissent nobody cares about but you still have to read on the off chance that you get cold called (1/60) and that the professor will ask you about the dissent (1/10) = 1/600. No wonder lawyers have a reputation for being bad at math and ridiculously risk averse. Anyway, in law school, hope & complacency lead to misery. You think you'll finish the reading super fast because it's only a few pages, and couple hours later, you are not drawing and you are not done. You think this case will be easy to read and it's excruciating. You think you'll finish your memo quickly and get caught up on studying and the memo takes the whole weekend. When I decided, "umm.. yea. there's no way I am going to be caught up on everything," I felt soo much better and started to enjoy law school like A LOT. Because other than reality not matching my totally unfounded expectations, the classes are really interesting, and there are some great people here to nerd with.

Law school = a lesson in engaging rather than controlling and umm... drawing anyway. by choice. when there's NO TIME (AHHHH). And it means more.

response to stress...

... of which there are many, I have chosen to just not worry.

For example, it has dawned on me, I will never actually not be behind in my work as a 1L... so umm... why worry?

This seems logical to me yet it has not occurred to me before and it will be the first time I am trying the whole "why worry" strategy.

And of course now I am worried about the effectiveness of the "why worry" strategy.

Oh a bundle of neuroses I will always be.

Did I actually...

... procrastinate from writing my memo by studying Rule 12(g) and 12(h) of the Federal Rule of Civil Procedure? Even though I still have no idea what's going on, all signs indicate I am steeped in 1L festivities. What is confounding all this is that procrastinating on a paper really brings me back to college. Every time I write a paper, I procrastinate like a champ. Somehow, magically, maybe by a paper writing fairy, it gets done. And always, ALWAYS, I am elated and vow to never EVER procrastinate again.

Yet, I do, always, find writing a paper both excruciating and exhilarating.

And yes, I am now procrastinating on finishing my memo by writing on my blog, another writing activity I have been procrastinating on for years. I also have a slight fever and drank way too much coffee so all this is probably incoherent.

Law school is as it should be: there is so much work that I can't stop and think. Because if I were to o that, I would think a lot about how little I have drawn in the past month, and how rusty I have gotten and unsure my marks are when I do get to draw. It's not all bad though. I find that the limited time makes me draw differently.

My Contracts professor wrote "MoMA" on the board and asked the class what it meant. My lovely classmate said "Museum of Modern Art" and it both made my dad and made me sad. The "correct" answer is "manifestation of mutual assent," and honestly, that's cool too. I like Contracts a lot and thinking about the dance of law and integrity. I like being a little confused and reveling at the ambiguity. I wish I can just think about the law and chew on it without the looming cold call or the elusive exam that everyone assures me will definitely happen. But if I did this for "fun" too, then I really would be the ultimate dilettante. Oh and what a bliss that would be!

A collage.

Here is a collage of sentences I like from the June 22, 2014 The New York Times Magazine:

"... clowns are often feared and hated... (Fooling Around by Hope Reeves)" "... they all retained the basic nipple-and-shield configuration... (who made that? (Pacifier) by Dashka Slater)" ""Time is actually the lead character in the film," Lacklater says (12 years a boy by Matt Lankes)." "Too young to understand the pitfalls of adulthood, I could only sense them (Sea Changes by Stan Parish)."

Anxiously

Got a new confusing phone. I have given in to the whole texting thing. So why not the kindle? I wanted to try J. G. Ballard and was able to have it in my hand in seconds. So this is definitely more convenient. But although I know text exists beyond a physical book, I could not divorce writing from the volume I was reading. My memory of Mrs. Dalloway is intimately integrated with the sensation of holding the Whitestone library volume and how the plastic protecting the cover was sticking to my hand as I started to sweat either from the summer heat or from the scary page-long initiating sentence. Now will words be more abstract? Or will I remember them as being framed by the white galaxy phone I had during this transition period in my life as I prepare to enter the legal profession? Well, only one way to find out by starting High Rise.

Consumed on 6/1/14

The New York Post Saturday, May 31, 2014

Newsday Saturday, May 31, 2014

I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. Walking in New York, I see people on sidewalk who are not in New York. I am invisible as they back into me to get a more panoramic view (why not use eyes?). Does the bodily contact jolt people into a reminder of physical reality? I was at MoMa yesterday, a great opportunity to be nervously close to paintings. You can see the brushstroke and the decision feels palpable. Yet viewers insist on editorializing the composition by inserting themselves and flatting a textural object into a flat image. I can go on and on about the ubiquitous cell phone photo taking rituals but I don’t because I just sound really old and self righteous. But today when I saw the photo accompanying an article about teens who won a chance to view some awesome private collection at the Museum of Natural History, I felt scared. There were a group of boys and girls taking a cell phone photo in unison of what is probably an awesome specimen of something really cool. Instead of being there, we digitize and archive. We are information gatherers, sure, but how about be a little more selfish and just consume a book, a movie, a work of art? Why filter everything out and disengage? I did not take a single photo at the MoMA yesterday so does that mean I have no memories? Actually, I do. I can zoom in and out of a Rothko in my mind and my memory of the painting is tinged with being a little hurt (I don’t know why) that my friend doesn’t care for it. I remember my legs hurting but still not being able to tear myself away from a Rauchenberg painting that reminded me of a collage piece we worked on in Mariano’s class. I remember being dazzled by the transfer drawings of Gauguin, the security guard engaging me in a conversation about it, and staying up late to try for myself the technique. Memories (life) is possible (better) without the filter of a smartphone screen. And I think we can live in a less self-absorbed culture (just a guess) if we selfishly consume more art, place, life.

An American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser

The New York Times Magazine Sunday, May 25, 2014

Consumed. 5/3/14

Today I read…

Newsday Friday, May 2, 2014

Consumed.

Today I read…

The U.S. Constitution And Fascinating Facts About It, 6 Ed.

Desiring God: Meditations of a Christian Hedonist by John Piper

Newsday Saturday, Apr 26, 2014

Daily News Saturday, Apr 26, 2014

New York Post Saturday, Apr 26, 2014

Consumed.

Today I read:

USA Today Thursday, April 24, 2014: news, life, money.

New York Post Thursday, April 24, 2014

I was always too snooty to read the New York Post, but these days the Post has become a guilty pleasure-read. It is hilarious, fun, and does not make my head hurt. I feel less annoyed at the absurd world I traverse daily and all that. And it has cartoons. And sudoku. Score!

Legal Writing in Plain English: A Text with Exercises, 2nd Ed. by Bryan A. Garner

I picked this up at a real physical book store in nyc being a dinosaur I am because I thought it was going to be a special writing book. But while I was at the said physical location where you can hold the book before buying, I also should’ve read a bit of it. Then I would’ve realized that a good legal writing book is a good writing book. Actually, I have no idea what a good legal writing book is given that I don’t know anything about legal writing, but I am finding this book to be an incredible writing book about clarity of thought and elegant simplicity as the aesthetic aim of a writer of any ilk.

The New York Times Magazine April 20, 2014

Would it be possible to go do a painting on North Brother Island? And why have I never drank a bloody mary in my entire life? Am I still a real adult?

Desiring God: Meditations of a Christian Hedonist by John Piper

1L of a Ride: A Well-Traveled Professor’s Roadmap to Success in the First Year of Law School by Andrew J. McClurg

I think I can do those case brief thingies. I am kind of excited to do those. Is something wrong with me?

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Michael said during the last lecture of the year on Friday that in order to become an artist, the art student should have a life outside of school, always carry a sketchbook, and read everything. I started today to try reading everything since the advice resonates for this aspiring artist and attorney who intends on literary living. Furthermore (and more importantly?) reading is one of the least guilt inducing way to procrastinate (that is, unless you have actual assigned/obligated reading to do). And I will nurse my neuroses by keeping a record of what I read daily (let’s see how long I can keep this up) so that I can also sorta blog again.

As of today…

After the initial confusion, I decided take this as a sign I am making real progress as an artist: my teachers are telling me to do what they have precisely told me not to do when I started training as an artist. “Don’t squint” “Use limited value range” “draw curves”

Art is dialectical, an intricate balance of the opposites. As a neophyte, I had to train myself to isolate and separate the components of visual languages to study them and manage the overwhelming visual experience. Can I finally start to juggle the opposites now? Or at least attempt to do so without getting disorganized? A long way to go, a lifetime to go, but will keep at this impossibly wonderful task of making pictures.

As of today, I don’t have a lot of money. But I have physical health. I have art. I have love. I am content.