August, my birthday buddy, it is time to say goodbye to you. You’ve brought me many farewells, indeed, though, this time, you’ve neglected the most painful one. For the first time in several years, I don’t have to say “see you later” to those I love most, and spend several months away from them on the East Coast. For that, I thank you. I know online schooling isn’t the most ideal way to get a BFA, and that there are many cons to it, but staying with my family, my love, and my dog this fall is one of the greatest gifts I could have asked for.
August, you did force me to say goodbye to a wonderful internship. That small, globally-minded Notch of the world gave me an artistic home for the summer, proved to me that this new path is truly the one I want to pursue, taught me that I have the talent and drive needed to be successful. They taught me a new skillset; they further opened my mind both to the artistic world I love and to the hurting world I reside in. They let me feel purposeful. They made me realize my own worth. Even more than that, Notch gave me a place to be an artist while school isn’t in session, at a time when so many artists are longing for that setting and camaraderie. I grew so much during my months with them (actually, let’s shout out these badass women warriors here: Ashley, Jessica, and Juliana. I’ve linked their sites. Check them out), and I will forever be grateful for it. I was and am sad to say goodbye. I must remember, though, that it is not goodbye. It’s simply “see you around.”
August, your end has made me bid farewell to the summer portion of The Theatre Times. I’ve met such wonderful people (Michelle Memran and Chris Harris stand out), and have been able to experience all kinds of international art that I wouldn’t have thought of before. Witnessing that, it brings a newfound appreciation of interconnectivity between cultures, of humanity’s art of just being. I enjoyed that, too. And, though I may be continuing on with them (stay tuned, y’all), there remains a bittersweetness to the ending of the first installment.
August, your end has brought about new beginnings. You gave me the first reading of my play, one which gave me goosebumps and the biggest smile on my face. You gave me several short stories, a novel or two. You gave me new school schedules. You’ve let me see my brother play varsity. You’ve had me grab college invitations for my sister from mail and email (how in the hell do they keep getting my email and not hers?). You’ve rung in my 22nd birthday. In a year that has been unsettling and uncomfortable in ways both good and bad, August, your very duality is something that is not lost on me.
August, you gave me elation and depression, joy and panic attacks, creativity and self-doubt, contentment and guilt. I’ve written more within your days than I have in several months combined, and that has felt so very wonderful. I’ve filled several pages in my bullet journal of art that I’ve been given to enjoy. I have two new album obsessions, a folkloric confessional. I found new favorite podcasts. I read, a lot. I got horribly sick (yay, sinus infections). I became addicted to social media for a week or two. I neglected my blog like an absent guardian, so focused on other projects I have going on. I’ve wrapped up working part-time at the bank, having learned what not to do as a self-employed person. I have felt very odd, and very loved, and very unsure, and very certain.
August, you have given me a much clearer picture of what I want. You’ve given me the privilege and desire of goal-setting. And we all know (even when I don’t myself, sometimes) that my stubbornness, my desire to succeed, my want to care for others, and my obsessive planning have always ended in accomplishing that goal.
I’m excited.
I’m terrified.
I’m nervous.
Let’s go.
Here’s to you, 22nd year of life.
And hello, September.
What’s up, my fall witches?
~Rhiannon~
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