Where my head is.
Bad Poetry Night: inspired by Roy.
Embarassing moment of the day.
Santa take note.
Angst & Graphite.
Please pass the Neosporin.
Kung Fu PJs.
Monday, April 17, 2006
In the ether.
Where have I been? Around, just not so inclined to blog lately. Nothing new to report, really. It's kind of comforting to have this steady pace in life. No surprises, no deviations from routine.
It's maddening as well, occasionally. I don't want to end up one of those cubicle residents of the library tech department who tacks pictures of faraway places to her walls in the harsh light of the fluorescent light above. What I once thought was an exciting job - the life of a cataloger or acquisitionist - reveals itself, after a tour of an ivy university's library system, to be quite a downer. The conservationist, on the other hand, lives bathed in beautiful white light for the purpose of selecting perfect color matches to repair or preserve ancient texts, maps and manuscripts. Ancient, like a thousand years old. That's what I want to do.
Apparently, that's what a lot of people want to do, and there just aren't a whole lot of multi-century manuscripts lying around in need of care. After our tour, every single classmate of mine exclaimed with glee, "I want to be a conservationist/preservationist!" I'm fairly certain there are not enough jobs available to make our dreams come true.
Though as I sit here and try to talk myself out of dreaming, I glance around my walls. How many of my classmates have collected ancient vellum documents? A slab of skin, inked by hand, and signed with two tabs for wax seals - this is what sets my heart aflutter. Leaves from a book printed in the 17th century, marked in red by the hand of someone whose great great grandchildren have long since died - do my classmates own these things, carefully tucked away and brought out only on rare occasion to stare at and admire?
I feel like part of me was meant for that kind of work, but then I wonder how common those feelings are. Certainly there is not enough work to go around for everyone who tries to get into it, what makes me so special? Why don't I just settle for something else I'd enjoy? Something easier to obtain?
These rambling thought tangents I sometimes ride are boring, I'm sure, to anyone who isn't me. Please accept a rather insincere apology.
posted by hilary at 6:09 PM |
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