Museum stranger

I have to get my priorities in order. I feel like I’m doing all the things a high school student should. Except blindly. I don’t know what I want to do. Now or in the future. How can I even decide at my young age. I mean the man in the Guggenheim today agreed too.

I was sitting in the museum cafe, ironically bookless as the only intention I had of going to the Guggenheim was to read. The man sitting next to me looked like he was in his late 20s, tattoo sleeve, oversized grey band tee-shirt, empty coffee cup sat to the left of him on the table. He stood up and asked me to watch his laptop for him while he went to buy another coffee: like a Good Samaritan I agreed.

When he returned we began to have a conversation. He asked me what I wanted to study when I went to college, where I wanted to go, and what I wanted to do in general. I didn’t really have any answer besides saying that I had to be either on the east coast or west. I don’t really know what I want to do. I know I am interested in humanities and art, fashion and what not, but not a clue on what career path I should take.

I feel like all I am doing now is what is expected of me. Studying for the ACT, getting good grades, aiming to go to an Ivy League. Do I even want to? I haven’t asked myself that.

The man branched into discussion with me about the collections currently being shown in the Guggenheim. The symbiotic relationship between the two artists on display. How their use of materials in their artwork and compositions complimented each other. It was a little intimidating because while I studied the art in front of me in the museum, I wasn’t ready to have a full-fledged conversation about the meaning of this art with this man, who seemed to know a lot more about everything than I did.

I learned later on that he worked as a photographer, with businesses and companies I dreamed of working for, and I almost thought that this was maybe a sign from the universe, or just some lucky coincidence, that I had the chance to talk to someone who basically had the life I wanted in adulthood.

I ended up hastily and discreetly scribbling down parts of what he said in my notes app after our conversation. It mostly had to do with how one can develop their lexicon of style as an artist and about dealing with the pressures of college. (e.g., an artist’s technique should be mastered prior to their creation of art with actual meaning.) I kind of learned through this how little I know about everything. But not really in a dreadful way, more in a hopeful one.

Because I have so much more to explore before I decide what I want in life. That’s a pretty straightforward and obvious statement, but I never really considered that I could have a successful job which I was proud of and had fun in. I never thought I had it in me to make something out of my passions and interests. I can see how clearly stupid this sentiment is, it just truly never occurred to me, for what reason I really do not know.

At the end of our conversation, he said to me, “I hope you will be very successful”.

I don’t know. I just think it was very uncanny that I randomly decided to come to the Guggenheim today, sit down at that specific table, and have a conversation with a man who seemed to have a career that I dreamed of. The simple notion of talking to someone who had pursued a career I wanted made it feel just a little more attainable somehow. Regular people could have these jobs which in fact, where not just reserved for the ultra-talented or famous (as I had unconsciously persuaded myself of). It was like a disguised motivation telling me to work hard for what I actually want in life to become fulfilled.

I guess the trouble of that all is that if everything imagined becomes achieved, life will continue to branch out into even more complicated facets of possibility. We can never truly be fulfilled and happy with what we have, can we?

I suppose that’s not a problem I need to deal with for now.