SO, I’m trying to write my personal statement for medical applications. And I’ve been forced to admit, that despite years of effort; I am not, in the least bit artsy fartsy. Now, there are some of you who may like to take offense to that word and to you I say, hold your horses. Because this is a discourse in how I wish I were artsy fartsy, not how geeky I think you artsy farts are.
The term artsy fartsy I’m sure did not originate in my family. But, my grandmother and my mother used the term loosely because that was the time of non-political correctness, ( you know, the good ole 90’s)Probably because it sounded funny; my mom will say anything if it sounds the least bit fun on the other side of her lips. To further this little digression, I’d like to say that I wish I had even a person in my family that played AN INSTRUMENT. I kid you not there is not a person in my immediate or extended family that has one art-ish bone in their body. There are only two things that come even remotely close, and after you read them I guarantee the first thing you’ll think is “Well that was quite a stretch”
Firstly, my grandmother, Eva, god rest her awesome soul, could sing. I mean she could belt it. She sang in our church choir for the longest time. After her choral career ended, I remember sitting next to her in the congregation on Sunday wishing I could even get ON KEY. The second is that my boyfriend’s uncle can tickle a set of guitar strings such that your arm hair perks up and asks what’s going on. Srsly, he’s that good. Thing is I’ve known the man for five years, and I didn’t know until LAST MONTH that he could strum.
See? So, even though I adore my grandmother and admire her to nth degree, singing doesn’t really count.. Because even I can do it, in the right chord. And hell, my boyfriends uncle is not even a valid in-law yet. So unless someone in my family has been holding on to some right brained charisma… I’m telling you the truth about my total lack of artsy fart genes. But I digress…
Here’s the connection. Art, media, sculpture, songs, instruments, dance, poetry, fiction… all artsy fartsy stuff. Where does a personal statement fit into that? Well, yes, that’s right… somewhere between poetry and fiction. And as I have sufficiently proven above.. I have neither. So after all these years of starting little projects with yarn and hemp and trying my hand at poetry in high school and adventurously trying to re-learn how to crochet… I’ve willfully and honesty thrown in the damn towel after attempting to weave a good tale about myself. I cannot. It’s either some sob tale or too boasty. But, see my biggest problem in the whole shebang is that because I’m not artsy fartsy… I’m the worlds best analytical critique. Which really makes matters worse. Oh to be able to sketch a little doodle of me multi-tasking in a white coat whilst sick patients spin around me on gurneys in need of my immediate help. I’m sure that if that did not catch the eye of the admission committee that it would at least give me some kind of writers’ ambition!
But seriously tho! It's not fucking fair. If there was one thing that I wish I'd gotten around to doing when I was younger it would be to learn something artsy; i.e. piano, sculpture, coal sketching... really just anything. I dunno what I was thinking, but I do know that things like this cannot be re-gotten just like that. poof I can sew. NO, not so much really, and it's a pity. Imagine all the pent up expression in thousands of people's minds that never learned an expressive outlet.. tisktisktisk, god. You couldn't have found it necessary to hard wire us a little less tight?
So in light of all my toils and trials. I salute you, artsy farts, for being able to dream up the abstracts and translate them into media.
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