Monday, March 26, 2018

YJS, on the brink of turning 28

I'm going to be 28 years old on Saturday.

I am already 29 in Korean age, but Korean age is bullshit and I refuse to live 1-2 years older than everyone else in the world, so 27 going on 28 I am.

And I don't really know who I am asides from that.

I'm not talking about my upbringing - I'm a culturally confused Third Culture Kid and that is okay and I've made peace with that. I mean that I don't know who I AM.

What is my key personality? What am I best known for? Do I have expertise in anything?

I feel like I don't have an answer for any of those questions.

Since I was young, I rather disliked the notion of being known for one thing, whatever it may be. For me, it was usually drawing; I was the Kid Who Draws.

And that felt suffocating. I have other interests and thoughts and feelings other than drawing, I thought. I am me! I refuse to be pigeonholed into just the Kid Who Draws!

Perhaps it was because of this attitude, but I never managed to delve really deep into anything all my life.

I read a lot as a child. I read fiction. But I never challenged myself to read nonfiction nor did I have any favorite authors whose books I obsessively tracked down. I liked stories, not the people or the craft behind it. And eventually I began to read less for leisure.

I like writing. But I don't have anyone whose writing style I love, nor do I have any writing mentors. I only know that I like writing simply and concisely, getting the message across as efficiently as possible, artistic value be damned.

I am doing journalism. But I don't have any favorite reporters whose stories I obsessively follow, nor am I subscribed to a million newspapers (I just read/watch the news like a regular person does). I don't have any grand aspirations of winning a Pulitzer or reporting a challenging story. I don't have some burning drive of Searching For Journalistic Truth.

And drawing. Oh, drawing. I never went to art school - I felt like I would be wasting my writing opportunities if I went to art school. Also, I hated doing what others told me to and only wanted to draw what I wanted, which I reckoned was the wrong attitude to have anyway if I wanted to do art for a living. I also balked at the price of drawing tablets and didn't buy one until I was 26, while most people start drawing digitally at 13 or so. As a result, I know how to draw, but I can and will never draw as well as professional artists, even though it is one of my greatest passions.

I never delved deeply into other long-term hobbies like I should have. Obsessing over things that wasn't school stuff or job stuff felt like a waste of time. I never cared to learn about the kendo spirit or analyze moves beyond the basics. I never practiced my violin in my spare time, and I never poured in my heart and soul when playing, resulting in a soulless, mechanical screech that sounded more like dying chickens than actual music. I never gave 100% when playing tennis, resulting in my skills never improving.

I didn't study deeply into anything I ever did because I wanted spare time. Spare time to do... nothing, essentially; just kill time and sleep and watch cat videos or whatever. I never cared because I didn't want to be known for That One Thing and got lazy with life,  and now I'm here, unable to do a good job of anything.

Maybe I SHOULD have cared more about all the things I did. Maybe then I'd be good at at least one thing by now, or at least have an identity that others can recognize me by. Right now I'm just... me. A lazy, pessimistic, antisocial person who isn't an expert at anything and easily crumbles under the slightest stress. A rather uninteresting and useless person.

It's probably too late to do anything about it by now since I'm nearing 30 and officially getting Too Old for Things.

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