After years of procrastinating on research papers, sitting through examinations, falling asleep in class (just kidding, I’m a great student), walking up and down campus, and lugging heavy library books, I’m finally done with my Bachelor’s degree… and it feels pretty anticlimactic.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not disappointed. I wasn’t expecting fireworks and a round of applause, it just struck me as funny that the entire experience culminated in me walking alone to the concrete parking structure, getting in my car, and driving away.
I had one of those moments of clarity while I was cruising in the fast lane on the 405. When you feel really aware of the fact that you’re alive, and like you’re part of the human vein, flowing recklessly through time. You pretend to have control, but time will keep flowing, urging you forward.
Perhaps the catalyst of this existential moment was spurred on by the content of the final, final exam I had just taken. Nearly all of contemporary art is about identity, time, our histories, reality, and meaning – how all of these things have multiplicities, layers, implications, and nuances of meaning. Yes, even the idea of “meaning” can have different definitions.
These two clocks are a work by Felix Gonzalez-Torres, and represent the passage of time, the love between two people, and the tragedy of AIDS in the 1980s. The clocks tick away, slightly out of sync. They convey the anxiety of the passage of time, knowing that the one you love will die from a confusing and cruel disease. This work is a double portrait of the artist and his partner, who were both taken by AIDs only 5 years apart.
This is one of my favorite works of art, because something so simple can convey SO much information and emotion.
I didn’t intend for this entry to end on such a low note! I promise I’m happy to be done with school! haha.
Here’s the song I was listening to on the road today: