fear and loathing in NY.

"I am not afraid. I was born to do this." I recently saw this quote on a bracelet and I loved it. It was said by Joan of Arc. The more I thought about it, though, I wondered whether the two had to be mutually exclusive -- not being afraid, and doing what you were born to do. My thinking is that even if you're meant to do something, you can still be scared shitless. Following your heart and dreams and destiny is scary. It's normal to be afraid. Personally, I think if you're not even the tiniest bit afraid, you don't have much invested in whatever you're doing.

School is going well. Very, very busy. My eyeballs are about to fall out of my head, we have so much reading all the time. But when else in my life am I going to HAVE to read 3-4 books a week? When will I ever have this time again? I won't. So I'm enjoying it now. Sometimes I'll be like, shouldn't I be doing something else instead of sitting here, reading? Nope, I have to read! Very thankful for this. I think about this every time I go on campus - how close I came to not coming here, how many times I turned them down....but it was meant to be. And aside from not loving NYC and the nerves about coming here, I don't regret it. The professors are amazing, they really love what they do and care about us and our success, and though the students are competitive, they're nice, overall. I would definitely recommend Columbia to people thinking about the MFA......is there debt? Most definitely. All of my friends here are on federal loans, but that's most people at this school. And you never know what fellowships or aid can open up.

I never really think of writing as an "art", but it is, obviously - it's housed in the School of the Arts. It's odd, being an art school student. Very different than the sciences. The license to pursue creativity in every way is new to me. I've found that I need to approach books and stuff with a different mindset than I had for psych and public health. It's hard to get back into that after NOT doing it for so long. And I don't know how it is for fiction or poetry folks, but for us nonfictioners, we're constantly being told to delve deep into our stories, say things that haven't been said, to write where there's heat.....sometimes it feels a little like group therapy. Which I guess I should have expected a little bit. I mean, a bunch of writers? I don't know what will happen in the winter, when seasonal affective disorder kicks in and we all become tortured, depressed artists.

Living in NY? Expensive. Sometimes I still get sticker shock over the most basic things. I have to remind myself that not only am I back up North, but I'm in one of the most expensive cities in the country. I miss Chapel Hill every day. I miss the people, I miss the landscape, I miss my work, I miss it all. I'm beginning to fall into a routine and developing the habits I had as a New Yorker before, but there's something different, something a little softer and nicer about me this time around. I do still miss the everyday human connections. Sometimes I find them here, when a thug-looking kid gives an elderly person their seat on the subway, or when someone holds the door for me. I try to wish cashiers a nice day when I buy things. Kindness means so much more to me now.