Day 51: Trying to Avoid Living in a Cardboard Box, Made Me Want to Become an Architect.

When I was growing up,

my career plans changed very often.

I think my earliest career plan was to be an artist, because I loved drawing. 

My parents kept me busy by giving me crayons or markers and pieces of cardboard to draw on.

Around 5, I wanted to become a marine biologist, because the ocean was, and still is, really fascinating to me. Then my mother told me that marine biologists don't make any money and that if I didn't study hard enough, i'd live in a cardboard box the rest of my life.


Then I thought I'll become a veterinarian, I can be around animals and make a decent living!
"its fool proof!" I thought.
But then, when I went to the veterinarians office for the first time, and saw some kid crying because the vet was going to kill their dog 'Goldie'..


made me change my mind.


Then I went back to the idea of becoming an artist and as usual, my mother, slowly becoming my career advisor at this time, told me once again that if I became an artist, I would have to be a really good one, other wise..


"You'll end up in a cardboard box"


Around 12, I thought I had better start thinking seriously about my future goals if I didn't want to live inside of a refrigerator box the rest of my life. 
So I thought i'd seriously become a vet. I'll get over putting dogs to sleep, cutting them open, it'll be easy.


Then my parents tried to break it to me as gently as possible, that I cant study. 
My attention span, while studying, doesn't last long enough for information and facts to sink in to my stubborn brain. With this, they approximated that with my studying habits, it would take me..50 years or so.


I wasn't sure if this was the sort of work that I wanted to pursue anymore. I thought it wasn't exciting enough. So when I was a freshman in high school, I thought I would become a pyrotechnician. 


But then I realized that dangerous, highly explosive devices + me = would most likely mean bad things...very bad things. 


I then thought of being a tattoo artist, director, singer (I really thought I could make is as a singer), video game designer, teacher, doctor, etc. These changes happened throughout my freshman year of high school.


I thought it was time to get serious and really think about what i'm going to do. All in all, I knew that I wanted to do something in the arts..something that would allow me to use my hands to create.


In my sophomore year, they offered a class called "Technical Drawing". Essentially, it was like Architecture for beginners.


I really enjoyed it. I thought up all these dream homes that I would be able to design someday. I could make homes for people that needed them. Most of all, I knew that if you were a well known architect, you could make a decent living.


And from that point, that was my career goal until now. My feelings about architecture haven't changed, but they haven't stayed the same either. 


I keep thinking about all the other things I could do. All the other things I could achieve. 


The reality of life is slowly beginning to sink in on me. Its getting to me that within a week, my last semester at Parsons will begin. 

...and when its all over, I'll feel like just like a kid again, unsure of what to do.


I'm not sure where my life will take me. I tend to plan things as I go along. 


I know that I want to move out and be on my own for awhile. 


I know want to do things that are meaningful to me, and not because of the money or so called fame.


I know that the main goal in my life is to be happy. 


because what will happen in the end anyway?


All the wealth I want to amass at the end of my life.


are friends..


and good memories.