A Few Moments of Fantasy

Source: Pixabay

I believe that art can wake someone up and free them from a state of monotony, even if only for a few moments.

My parents always appreciated the arts, but they never saw merit in having me explore them, assuming that I was fated to follow them into the sciences.  They weren’t necessarily wrong.  In school, math was easily my best subject; it was structured, so all I had to do was follow the rules. It wasn't subjective; I liked that I could always find a answer that was indisputably correct. However, these reasons that I had for liking math were also the things that made math boring and monotonous. I would have to do the same steps for each problem, over and over again.

The one form of art that my parents did emphasize was literature.  English was not my mom’s first language, so she did everything she could to make sure I would never have trouble reading.  She would buy me almost any book I wanted and had my dad read with me before bed every night. He'd always make unique voices for each character, transporting us into the another world, a grand adventure, a few moments of fantasy.

When asked what their favorite subject is, kids usually respond with the subject they’re best at; as a child, what’s easy is what’s fun.  This was true for me.  I would always say math.  But math was boring; I didn't look forward to doing.  I rushed through math homework to be able to continue whichever book I was currently reading.  Math was an aspect of everyday life that I didn’t hate having to do.  It wasn't what I would stay up past my bedtime, hiding under the covers with a flashlight, for; I would do that so I could read just one more chapter, to spend just a few more moments in whichever adventure I had been sucked into that time.  Math was easy, but math was boring.  The fantasy worlds and dramatic plot lines that I could throw myself into while reading a book never were.

Once I got to high school, I ended up taking classes in art and fashion design.  I found that they had the same effect that my books did; I could draw or design and the rest of the world would disappear.  I could have two exams and a project due the next day, but, once I opened my sketchbook, it wouldn’t matter.

I can look back and wonder if how I was raised was the reason math came easy to me, and it probably was.  Maybe if my parents had put me in art classes I would be doing that instead of majoring in cybersecurity, but I’ll never know for sure.  However, I do find myself wishing that things had been different, because the moments I can put a pen to paper and create something instead of solve, or open a book and be swept away instead of staring at numbers are the ones that I enjoy the most.