Ok, haven’t posted for some time ‘cause I’m bedraggled with uni work and just life in general. It’s an exciting time in that I’ve only got three or so months left before I’m finished with formal studies for what may become forever. It’s a frustrating time because the pressures of uni are inhibiting my opportunities to get alongside others. It’s also an uncertain time when what is to come remains abstract in its realisation. I’m a buoy without direction, without any destination, just hitching a ride with the current tide. Every now and then being thrown down by the violent surf. Bobbing back up, giving it another go.

I’ve been studying most of my life. The usual primary and secondary years came and went (even though time seemed to stand still throughout its duration). First year out I ventured straight into nursing. I’m not a nurse. The sterile nature of the work left me feeling suffocated and at a loss. It wasn’t a waste of a year, it just wasn’t me. So consequently I did what many unsure young adults do when they are attempting to work out their future and began a good old Arts degree. I now see this as a bit self-indulgent – years of archaeology, multiple histories, contemporary visual culture, literature studies and Renaissance Art – but damn it was a liberating time in some ways and I do miss the hours spent pouring over books in the old-carpet smelling library carrels.

So it’s finally coming to an end. If I get through these three months I’ll be a teacher. Almost 20 years of learning only to begin the cycle for others. It’s funny how you grow in your thinking over the years. If I had the chance to go back in time I would certainly take another route. I’m not even convinced that I would take on tertiary study. But that’s life isn’t it. Another moment where hindsight reveals a cache of ill-informed decisions.