Nostalgia.

Tomorrow, I mean in just few hours, I will start my new semester, also the last one in my current college. This feeling is quite hard to name. It has a bit of excitement, a bit of nostalgia, and honestly, a bit of scare.

I have only 4 classes in this semester. Two of them are for my major.


I'm excited. I want to study it. I want to experience the feeling. I want to meet new friends. I want to see what will be coming up next.

I'm nostalgic. I have grown and I know it. I have grown so much that I lost my old me. But the overwhelmed feeling standing in front of the new college is still here, in my mind. I appreciate every moment I have been through.


And yes, I'm scared. I still remember how much I love drawing. I drew whenever I had things to draw. It could be a pencil, a pen, a chalk, or just a smokey stick on the restaurant's table cover. I drew too much that I couldn't concentrate on my study, that I had to have a 300-page notebook I made by myself on my pack bag, that the teacher had to punish me to stop me from drawing during class. Even that couldn't stop me from drawing.
But then I did stop in 10th grade. It wasn't because of the teacher, of my parents, but myself. I realized that I couldn't draw a whole body with 2 normal eyes. I knew I could get into a proper art class so they could teach me how to draw, but I didn't. My young self was too scared to continue drawing.


I changed to write fiction.
I changed to study drama.
I changed to take photograph.


Somewhere inside me want to draw again but I don't give it a try. I'm a graphic designer and I cannot draw?



My parents used to ask me to change my major. And so do my aunt, my uncle, another aunt, another uncle, and their friends. They want me to become a doctor, a nurse, whomever, just not an artist.

Most of my friends and my parents' friends' children are not in art major. Some of my cousins and friends changed their art major because of their parents' pressure.


And I, who cannot draw, am still here, like a soldier, who lost his right arm, standing alone by himself in a spacious field.

I just can't stop doing it. I'm not like others. I won't change my major and I just can't change my major. I'm nothing without art.

...

My first class for my last semester is Basic Figure Drawing.

"To be, or not to be."

.

This feeling I will just leave here.in this note.