Architect

Art. My joy and grief. From the very beginning my whole life associated with art. I
am a daughter to my architect father. So that explains a lot. Since the day one I had
my own consciousness ,it was already all about art, drawing ,and painting.
Art. My joy. My whole childhood. My parents were university students when I was
born. That means I technically learnt art while my dad learning. Paper and pencils
were my best friends.
When I was a kid, I really really liked to go watch old temples. Temples were
absolutely one of a kind that much more different and elegant than other simple
square buildings. From the top to the bottom, even simple carpet of them
mesmerized my young and carefree heart.
As I mentioned before, my father is an architect. So I can say that art is my own
movie that bloomed right in front of my eyes. Since my dad has been respecting
and caring his profession like a new born baby with his whole heart all these years,
his love for art influenced me too.
So one cozy day in my senior year, I decided to become an architect. After all,
drawing and building were one of the biggest part of my life and I would gladly
accept it as my lifetime job. Isn’t it blessing of a god? I can work while I love this
much. This was what I thought.
In spite of my passion, entrance exam literally frightened me mentally and
physically. The more I learn, the less confident I felt. It was definitely and truly a
nightmare. Every moment I connect pen and paper I could contain whole world in
my tiny little hand. However, that fear made me weak that I would even cry river
when I start to draw something. In fact a solution was really simple. The root of
my fear was comparison. When we love something too passionately, sometimes we
could hurt our own self. What we love is the most important thing. If I could live in
my own moment, we should care less about others.
Architecture is a life planted in soil.