Missed calls… Missed opportunities

31 May Missed calls… Missed opportunities

Sometimes I feel as if I missed my calling in life. Going all the way back to high school, when I was introduced to writing, I always felt as if I had this hidden form of creativity that requires an avenue for venting from time to time. My ex, Adanna, used to write her feelings to me in the form of short poems, and I was always so impressed by them, I started writing myself.

From the very first instances of my writings, I could feel the intense release that words and expression allows. From then on, I would write for every girlfriend. I had just to let my thoughts and emotions out, even if my true emotions weren’t as fervent as they seem on paper. It was the emotional exercise of the activity that gave me the rush. Fast forward a couple years to college where my writing capabilities were challenged and upgraded, when I had the opportunity to take a few English Humanities courses with a Professor Karl Henzy. Unlike what I was previously used to, all the writing I had to do for his class was very analytical and descriptive. His class helped me tailor my writing so that I would not only say exactly what I wanted to say to the reader, but also portray words in such a way that the reader would feel what I would like him/her to feel. Writing became my hidden tool of comfort. Up to this day I still get that warm comfort from completing something I have been working on for some time. It’s like that feeling of rolling around in a pile of clean, warm clothes that have just recently come out of the dryer, (not sure if anyone else does that).

Prior to starting my undergrad education, I became very interested in web and graphic design. I began teaching myself HTML and after learning a little, I made this really poor web page using my Uncle Lincoln’s computer at work. When my freshman semester started at Morgan State, I wanted to pursue graphic design, but was warned against it because the programme was not accredited, and because the programme I was pursuing, information systems, was a lot more lucrative. Midway through my undergrad career, I got back into web design again, but this time taking it a lot more seriously. I taught myself more HTML and accompanying languages, and dove head first into more electronically induced ways of expanding my creativity. I built a few websites for friends and again attained that feeling of accomplishment and creative release when the job was done.

Another interest was also ignited midway through college, and that was painting. I knew I had no training and natural talent for painting, but once I started, it became another creative love. Just like writing, painting allowed me to explore an array of emotions from dark and morbid artwork to happy, colorful pieces. My amateur canvas and pigment manifestations widened my creative avenue, and were quickly added to my hidden, imaginative arsenal.

While all of this was going on, I was also exposing myself to music. Music in many different genres; music that flew under the radar, radio ‘unfriendly’ music, and just music that was supposed to be atypical of someone like me (whatever that is supposed to mean). Music allowed me to zone out, and although I didn’t even have the talent to play any instrument or read a single musical note, I still felt immensely connected to words and rhythm, (I really wish that I had taken a serious interest into learning an instrument when I was younger). I sometimes tell people that music is my religion… where the lyrics are my prayers and the beats are my place of worship. So whenever you see me very much into my music, you shouldn’t interrupt the mass.

Now equipped with my writings, my paintings, my digital interests and my love of music, I no longer hide them as much as I used to, but I’m still very protective.

So what was the point of all of this?

I just feel as if that my career should have been headed in a much more creative direction. Although I truly love the geeky, techie, nerdy, business-related work that I do, I am always silently envious by those who have such ‘left-handed’ and creative careers. I just feel that there may have been all these signs and opportunities throughout my life that were actually calling me to head in a more imaginative direction, but I ignored the calls. I just feel as if I heard the phone ringing over the years, but still chose to silence the ringer. All I can do now is stare at a long list of missed calls, but this time stay closer to the phone, keep my ears open and hope that opportunity on the other end decides to redial.