I enjoy the trips I make – when I can afford to make them, most times between the moments of mouthing profanities at mandatory fees of the graduate school. (More angry posts on this later). They enlighten, they inform, they surprise, and they provide countless photo opportunities – very great shots that present themselves at unexpected times in unexpected places. I also love them for the brief relief they provide from the stress of graduate school. In the end, they delight those who read about them, and that in turn makes me happy. Like I always say, life is too short to be spent in the tedium of just work.
I’ve discovered something else. More than just a chance to see my word in print – and who hasn’t harboured plenty of such narcissism – there is also the desire to say something, or say something new. Whether that desire is realized itself is another matter, but the pleasure of having something to say, and the chance to say it in one’s own way at one’s own time is delightful. In-between the appreciation of nature through photographic lenses, or songs, or words of others from books, there sometimes rises moments of professional epiphany, or hubris. The self realizes itself as a medium, and immediately assumes the responsibility to communicate a freshly discovered idea. I mean, I’ve not always been meant to be here, even though I’ve always felt myself moved to write, or to interpret concrete ideas of the world in my head through my own thought processes. But the present delights. In one moment, I’m in the vortex of confusing ideas even of my own relevance, and in another, I’m thinking of writing a book: Yoruba for Dummies: a guidebook to machine translation from and into Yoruba (although speaking out on my thoughts already makes it easy to absolve myself of the responsibility of having to do the work).
What was the point I was trying to make? I’ve lost it now, but it must have had something to do with deciding to write more on this blog in the coming year about my career projections, observations and opinions; sort of like a regular shrink session of ideas with my own personal silent listener. On second thoughts, maybe I was just getting the end-of-the-year blues characterized by looking for relevance in the most mundane things, or taking myself too seriously.