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Sebastian Scholl

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Sebastian Scholl

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Philosophical Crap

(Head of the Charles Regatta)

Often I hear others say, “it’s the little things that matter”.  Over my short life, this simple saying has steadily transformed into a personal mantra with hopes of sustaining a smile during times of vicissitudes.  The big picture (that is still being painted) is the interest that won’t cease to occupy me.  However, the big picture is tiring.  My eyes wearily scan back and forth, catching the un-finished details that never allow a final framing.   It’s a cruel trick I play upon myself though, because whenever I think the painting may be finished I extend the dimensions of my canvas.   Ironically, the more I learn the less capable I perceive myself, regardless of becoming more equipped.  I guess that happiness is seldom a motivator in transformation.    

The little things are not necessarily what matter, but more so what sustain.  With out a big picture there are no “little things”, for the two only exist with comparison.  These little things are my simple pleasures that make me smile, ideas that massage my mind and evokers that un-pent my emotions.  Here are a few I was able to capture.

After being an avid outdoorsmen through high-school, the idea of pursuing my passion while living urban seemed inadequate for my experience.  Though day after day I’ve longed to revisit those mountains, rivers and beaches I found so stunning.  The intensity of the Himalayas is one I may only find on the far side of the world, though simple beauties like the changing color of these leaves may be discovered and enjoyed in locations as disregarded as highways.
The only things that hold value are those which I give value; thus the more value I give the richer I become.  If you regarded your mind as much of a toy as a tool, fences will fall.  While walking down a long flat street bearing a parallel expression, I was able to perk myself up by discovering the happiest fire hydrant I’ve yet seen.  My new little project is to collect more of my own anthropomorphic images and eventually bind my own coffee table book.     

(Charles River – Cambridge)
 Lastly, is an idea I’ve been playing with over the past few months.  Generations prefer to assume their greatest dilemmas are unique.  Time and time again, though, our elders seem to have experienced advice pertaining to our “unique” struggles.  One struggle however, that I may argue unique, is a disconnect between physical and mental time.  
I suffer nostalgia of a world I never experienced.  Idolizing previous eras that have been portrayed to me so glamorously.  Focusing to infuse my life with that considered “vintage” or such called “unique”, I do anything to trick myself from feeling artificial.  It’s all smoke, though for some odd reason always tenders my spirits.  
The disconnect, however, stems from an attempt to keep pace with the ever increasing wealth of information shared digitally.  Our social and professional networks never rest, but we must.  I always found myself rushing.  Whether during leisure time or work, I forgot to enjoy the “in between time”.  Those fifteen minutes between classes or half-hour before a meeting. After re-focusing, I find my days to be exponentially longer.  I have positive answers for people who inquire about my day.  My mental clock has become ever more in-tuned with physical time.  
Now, it is late at night, and I doubt those last two paragraphs make good sense.  So, here is my new trick to taking my time:
1)  Instead of cabs, bikes or skateboards, I try to walk to my destination.  
2) On these walks, I focus on trying to find beauty that I wouldn’t have enjoyed if I hadn’t walked.
3) If I find something, I sit down, take off my shoes and take a picture with my feet in the bottom of the frame.  (As seen above)
By doing this, I don’t feel rushed.  I have time to pop off my shoes, and enjoy something beautiful.  Maybe it’s a little too quirky for most people…but what the hell, works for me. 
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