Sorry, I've moved..

You can continue to follow me here.

Rainbow

The rainbow taught me Persistence.

The crayons lay in a box. There were a lot of colors, and that was how I liked it. I started with a red crayon. I checked the paper label: “R-E-D”. Good, this would be red, the first color of the rainbow. I carefully stroked the red crayon in an arc from the bottom left corner of my white paper to the center at the top, and then down to the lower right corner. I held the sheet of white paper in front of me and inspected the clarity and boldness of my drawing so far. Satisfied, I added a curve running parallel to my first arc using an orange crayon. I proceeded with yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. I tore a piece of clear Scotch tape and folded it into a loop, stuck it onto the back of my masterpiece, and attached the rainbow to the wall of the family room. I stared at my artwork. A four-year-old, I dreamed of becoming an artist. I had faith in my talents, especially if I could already draw such pretty rainbows. Yet, whenever I looked at my art a second time, flaws would begin to rise to the surface. The arcs were not symmetrical, the orange was too thick, the violet looked too much like the indigo. So, the rainbow was re-drawn on a new sheet of white paper, re-attached to the wall, re-examined, and re-drawn again. Until it reached a level of satisfaction. A near-perfect rainbow drawing completed, I would take a break for the day.

The rainbow taught me Unity in Diversity.

Sunlight shone on the leaves crushed into the earthen floor and traveled softly through the mazes of shadows. Splotches of green had persisted on some of the leaves as remnants of the summer. Then, brown haze and orange haze and red haze all over again. All I saw were colors, lines, dots, and reflections of light. Everything was, and yet everything ceased to be. All was one and one was everything and anything – I was slowly beginning to… see.

The Gift of Seeing, reserved for the most talented of artists.

Perhaps I was just forcing myself to see.

No. I am not “forcing” myself to see anything.

It simply “comes” to me. I’m just artistically oriented.

Or was scientific knowledge interfering with my artistic viewpoint?

Rainbows. They are just white light that is split, and then perceived by receptors in our eyes. When we see the sky, it is only blue because nitrogen and oxygen molecules that make up 99% of the atmosphere scatter short blue light the best, and we perceive the sky as blue. The longer wavelengths are seen when the source of light - the Sun - is in line with our vision, and so we see a redder Sun, the oranges reflected by air molecules to give a sunset. When we see plants, their chlorophyll absorb red and blue light, having evolved to absorb the light that is most abundant (red) and the light that contains the most energy (blue). When they reflect green light, we perceive the plant leaves as green.

God did not paint the world with different colors.

Different colors are only due to reflections and absorption of different wavelengths of the same electromagnetic waves.

I wanted, with all my heart, to perceive the world like an artist. I wanted to see the world to sense the world to know the world to... Ah. Be the world. And in the process of seeing the world and sensing the world and knowing the world, I would know my place in the world, I would know that I am merely a fragment of the same world that everyone else is a piece of. I would know that we share elements in our composition… That we are each nothing but a strange mixture of hues and shades; the differences we notice among each other are more often than not merely reflections of different wavelengths of light against different media. The true differences between us… I want to understand.

Metamorphosis.

I am reading a book titled, The Music Room.

It describes the life of a student of Indian classical music, not too different from the life of students of any Indian classical arts.

The Indian classical art teacher, or guru, does not teach through instruction or books. The teacher teaches by understanding the disciple, and bulding an emotional and mental conduit between them through which knowledge and skills will soon transfer.

The disciple lives with the teacher and serves the teacher with devotion, performing with the teacher in order to gain a sense of the art under the teacher's eye. When the student is independent enough to develop his or her own understanding of the art, the teacher sets up performances for the student, increasing his or her self-confidence and abilities as an independent artist.

Art in classical India was a true talent, a true collection of skills that could not be simply acquired through observation or practice. These talents can only shine when the student learns to harness his potential in such a way that complements his talents and his art. It seems that the student must work diligently to discover some sort of inner purpose in his own art in order for his training to be successful in transforming his talents into magnificent power. When these skills and talents, this knowledge and power, is used for the student's attempt to discover only himself and his role in the cosmos, then the student has achieved the single-pointed focus, the directed consciousness that will serve him to travel a sort of journey atop the clouds, away from all problems of the world, yet amongst them. The student can truly understand his art's role in the world, in serving all people a few moments on those clouds, away from the problems of the world with him. That is when the student completes his metamorphosis into an artist.

I remember my own desires to become a classical Indian dancer. I don't know why I can never stop thinking about it... I always felt that the one time I could sense myself and feel completely independent ("free"), is while I am dancing. I enjoy entertaining the idea that I was on my way to becoming a true artist.. I tried writing about it every chance I could get.. I have a 30-page paper sitting on my harddrive, focused solely upon the relationship between me & dance throughout my entire life.

Sometimes I worry that I'm kind of obsessed..

entropy

our school is cool enough to have a duchamp-day celebration

one group strung colored strands of yarn bewteen pillars

that group hung colored strands of yarn from the strung yarn

that group let these strands of yarn defer to gravity by way of attaching small ornaments

that group crafted letters using painter's tape, stuck them to the yarn

the result was this:

crap the picture won't upload, see the first two pictures

all of the duchamp-readymade exhibits

stirred confusion,

and stirred chaos,

and stirred initiative...

one boy had the ingenius thought to run through the exhibit, the art

and swing himself from the yarn canopy

and pull down strands of yarn as he stumbled across the artpiece

and tear down the entire thing

and ruin hours of planning, hours of work

and laugh about it, and smile about it, and cackle about it, and haha ahahaha about it..

I entered TAG almost ten full years ago. The first day of school, I met my best friends. I met other friends. Some I do not know anymore, others I love so dearly. None of them will be coming to Mass. with me. I will be at least 260 miles (almost 5 hours) away from all of them.

Friendships either break, or are tested.

Then, my 4th grade teacher mailed me a big envelope. Inside: photos from 4th grade, they brought back memories; a letter I wrote to her on her birthday accompanied by a hand-traced ma of the Great Lakes region, that made me laugh; the pages I contributed to the class poetry anthology and UnderGround Railroad booklet, they made me smile.

And suddenly, it felt like everything would be OK.

Every time I clean my room, gathering old papers I cannot look at and say whoa! I really want this now! and recycling them and finding cool things that bring back memories that make me want to cry and smile and giggle and organizing my binders and labeling them with those printer labels leftover from old office campaigns during 8th grade that campaign to be school treasurer that never worked and as of now they're also left over from reusing big yellow envelopes for college applications because I didn't want to buy new envelopes, I just covered written stuff with printer labels and wrote anew and storing so many binders into shelves hoping I will not forget what I have stored where because I cannot afford to not be able to find something in two years when I need it most...

This process is basically only repeatable every six months due to lack of time.

Every time I do this,

Five weeks later, everything is a mess, my room is a mess, everything is aclutter.

And I can't do anything about it.

Woohoo.

Let the clutter live.

Keep cleaning, but let the clutter live.

It makes sense to me.

and that duchamp-day exhibit?

this is what i wanted to say to that lovely moron:

stop hahaaing you twerp. you just added to the art. you proved its point. congratulations.

I kind of like Abstract Art. I really do.. 

In fact, this is my personal attempt to produce Abstract Art: 

See, with Abstract Art, the artist is exploring ways to paint/draw shapes to end up with an aesthetically pleasing composition, even if the shapes are not representational of very real-life complex objects. Sometimes, the artist lets the shapes define their emotions regarding a particular idea... For example, my abstraction up there is part of my Modern Literature & Arts course project, where I have to draw an object in several different ways that represent the techniques used by artists of different Modern Art movements... The object I chose is a windchime:

It's that blue/yellow thing in center/leftish area. Anyway. 

Abstract art makes sense to me, it really does. It's art without representationalism, and it attempts to achieve good composition. Modern Art is pretty cool.

Then, there's Modern Music. That crap makes NO SENSE to me at all. 

Let me make it clear, just in case.

I'm not being judgmental. I have listened to serialist, indeterminanist/chance, minimalist, and other odd Modern Music forms... Expressive, Impressionist music are just fine.

But the attempts to do unto music what abstractionism/minimalism does unto painting... DO NOT WORK. 

MODERN MUSIC is FOR THE MOST PART PRETTY STUPID.

Hmph.

I mean, honestly, music is abstract enough. There is no real representationalism going on. You can't exactly imitate the waves rippling or the bumblebee humming without employing expressive techniques or abstractionist ideas. 

So what's up with the random people trying to get rid of the composition/organization in music that makes it so interesting for the ears... and make it into something that makes people wish they were DEAF instead?!?!

I mean, honestly... rolling dice to figure out which note of the scale to play? Or, better yet... not playing any music at all... Just letting people listen to their own breathing and coughing spasms? 

HAHA great job, musical composers. You're totally teaching us something about our society... about human tendencies...

What you are showing us, is that we place too much importance on organization and making sense of things. We place too much importance on ideas/concepts beyond practical application in the real world.

But we don't want to be animals. We want to be something more, see something more, hear something more. Stop trying to prove to us that we're lamer than we think we are. Honestly.

We like our eye candy, our ear candy.

Just let us have it, already. 

Snippets of a Day Plus Insight Woohoo!

So I've realized that something that makes me extremely happy...

- is not getting good grades

- is not seeing myself in the newspaper

- is not receiving compliments

- is not admiration from others

...

I actually feel really happy when I can sit with someone, who stares back at me with curious eyes, longing for a way to understand and accomplish a goal in life. Someone, who says, "I don't want to be stupid.. I just want to do well, but I'm so distracted, and I bite my nails, please help me." 
I mean, I should rephrase. I don't feel happy for this person. I don't really feel sorry either. I just want to hug this person and let him know that I am going to work so hard so that he does not have to worry.

I really love teaching students.

Today, I taught the li'l li'l freshman about heat v. temperature, the nature of air masses, the interactions between air molecules at a weather front, the causes of precipitation. I used my hands, my eyes, my smile to try my best to let him know that I wanted him to understand more than anything else during that time I was spending with him in the library. I wanted him to feel safe. I spat out analogies, utilizing the concepts of my pencil bag's heat and my pen's temperature, the members of an overcrowded house wanting to spill into the next-door neighbor's residence, the army pushing a wall quicker than the general, a balloon staying inflated.. 

And I didn't even feel that smart. I just felt aware. Aware of the fact that there is more to learning than just memorizing. There is more to learning than just recopying notes. There is more to learning than asking questions. There is a huge huge huge prerequisite of time-spent-trying-to-understand before any learning can be done. 
And I'm trying to use that prerequisite of learning to study for this AP Physics Electricity & Magnetism test. Hopefully I've already learned the skills necessary for AP Psycology Ha Ha. 

I replayed the Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince Trailer #3 on YouTube.com over 10 times yesterday because that trailer made me want to live a little more.

I know it's somewhat shallow, but I REALLY love the Harry Potter series.. 

Someone told me today that I should not worry about the intense grade deflation at MIT: "you of all people, Nikki, have no reason whatsoever to worry.. you would put more effort than the five of us [him, four of his friends sitting next to him at the time] combined". Aww. That basically made my day.

And then, one of my friends decided it would be a good idea to invite me over to his friend's barbeque party... He said that as he is my best friend (no totally not putting words in my mouth), I should go.. I told him I have better things to do on my birthday :-o 

I have a story.

One day, as I was walking through the main hall of Salem, I noticed something that changed my entire view of everyone at our school. I saw a sparkle in the eyes of each person who passed by. I saw an energy that wants to radiate from every single one of you, but it is waiting until the right time. Each one of us holds a certain potential to accomplish, obtain, and influence.

Today, we are assembled together as the Salem High Graduating Class of 2009 for the last time. We have traveled a long, arduous journey, but we traveled it together, and that made it all the more special. Thank you, Salem administrators, teachers, parents, fellow students, and everyone else gathered here today for sharing this significant moment with all of us, as we step off from this journey and onto our next path in life. My name is Nikita Consul, and I am going to illustrate in a new way the fact that each and every single one of us holds the potential to make a difference in the world.

I mean it when I say that every single one of us can make a difference.

"But I am only one person," you protest. My fellow classmates, if there is one thing I may ask of you, I would like to request all of you to discard the thought from your mind that you are in any way too minuscule to combat every situation that comes along your way. None of us is inadequate or unqualified - we merely fool ourselves to believe so.

Nelson Mandela, in his address Circle of Quiet, said:

...our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.

Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measures.

It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.

We ask ourselves: Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? Your playing small does not serve the world. We fear our own confidence; we fear taking the risk that will allow our fullest potential to bloom. But unless we overcome that apprehension and take on the most positive attitude possible, we will never see the depths of our hidden power. Once we learn how to harness our potential, we can use our talents and brilliance to serve the world.

And why should I do that, you ask?

What motivation do I have in serving the world?

I have an answer for you. When I volunteered for National Honors Society at the Valentine's Day Special Olympics Dance in February, I discovered a happiness that I had never experienced. Taking the hands of Special Education students, and showing them that they can have fun with the general population makes a huge difference in the lives of these students. The students' smiles almost reduced me to tears right on the dance floor. The kind of joy that we experience when we help another is both strong and unique. I suspect this is because the joy is a slice of true bliss.

Our world seems to be changing beyond our control. Economies are plummeting, melting ice is eroding coastline cities, and terrorism is on the rise. In the midst of what seems to be turmoil, every human being deserves every ounce of happiness possible. It is our utmost duty and also our privilege, as human beings, to spread such happiness and comfort. Even something as simple as a Special Olympics Dance can stimulate the spread of joy. In the future we can create our own scholarship funds for aspiring students like us. We can write letters to public officials or run for public office ourselves to help voice the concerns of our community. As we help others, we feel happy, satisfied, and productive. Moreover, we help people to gain more confidence and develop their individuality, allowing them to enjoy their lives in the future.

Making a difference in our world is an opportunity for us to make the change in the world that we are waiting for. As Mahatma Gandhi said, "You must be the change you wish to see in the world." Our work will not get done without our initiative and contribution. If you ever have any idea, do not hesitate to act upon it. If you ever have a doubt, do not hesitate to question it. If you ever have praise, do not hesitate to voice it. It is when we restrain our voices, actions, and protests that the world fails to change. And then it remains how we do not want it to remain.

As we sit here, together for the last time, each and every one of us is wondering what will happen next. Apart from what we have planned for the near future, we remain perplexed as to what kinds of turns our lives will take from here on out. We simply await the next stage of our life to come our way.

As we wait, we must not forget that it is the trip - the journey - that we will travel that makes life truly joyous. How we approach that journey will matter.

Fellow classmates, that sparkle - the energy that resides within you - is a gift. It is a gift that you can use to accomplish great things in the world. I have faith that each of you will make a difference in our world some day, somehow. And when you do, I hope you will remember your high school years and this graduation day.

Congratulations, fellow graduates.

Thank you.

So I was inspired by a need. To. Tell. My. Class. About the World. The graduation speech's theme: Tell your classmates how they can "Make a Difference in the World".
I really enjoyed writing the speech. I spent days writing it. Days revising it. Hours rehearsing it.

Eventually..
It became my way of becoming someone different and stepping out of my niche.
No one expected me to win. Everyone would have understood my other passions if they had only listened to my speech. But they didn't expect me to win.

As soon as I wanted to win to prove them wrong,
It all fell apart.

I didn't win.

And 12 hours later, I realize... It's quite OK.

So I think that Fauvism is just about one of the most interesting concepts I've ever encountered.
I wonder if it arose out of a shared human tendency to enjoy use of vivid colors? I cannot come up with another explanation... Why should a group of artists think that it's such a good idea to paint and represent form with colors that depict emotion?

Colors are important for humans.

I really like colors.

I also really like the rain.

My favorite kind of weather involves pretty sunlit skies with rain drizzling... "How does that work?" you ask... Well, it can happen. It has happened in front of my eyes... You just need a partly cloudy day, and the clouds will shower rain, while sun shines through the rest of the sky, and there you have it. A beautiful, sunny, rainy day. Usually accompanied by rainbows in the sky...

I get really worried over the littlest things.


Why is graduation day coming so close!?

My hands are really small and kind of fat. My sister makes fun of me and tells me I have short & stout hands and it makes me angry because I am jealous of her long, slender fingers and thin hands. But I would not be able to dance, draw, or even talk (watch me talk, I use my hands a lot) without my hands and therefore I love them.