Why is it that sometimes, I slap down the majority of the answer for a problem, and there's this little voice in my head bugging me to inspect the nuances, but I find myself uncaring and ignoring it? Sometimes the missing nuance cause me to miss the entire question, because there's that little twist that turns an otherwise straight-forward scenario into a brand new one. Most of the time, the little nuances cost me a point here or there, but in biology tests these little points accumulate. Science is quantitative, but I never wanted it to be as detailed as the humanities in which every nuance gave a brand new meaning to your writing. Science should be straight forward, cold hard facts. Yet it is not, and I need to take a step back and figure out why I'm putting myself through this.
What I love most about art is that you can throw an idea out there and if it's interesting enough, the critics will devour it, fighting with each other to dissect it. All the artist needs to do is sit back and watch them, content in knowing that they might never decide and that you don't have to tell them. Ambiguity makes the trade. But I reject artistry because I'm afraid someday my muse and inspiration will be all used up, all my thoughts and feelings drained from me that I won't be able to produce anything new. And by then, I'll be too old to learn. I'd rather save up all my muse for when I'm older, when I retire and turn to art.
The thing that I love most about science is not molecular, not what we're studying now. I don't care much for photosynthesis, glycolysis or genetics, and I feel we learn about these things in order to manipulate them. I am not interested in manipulating my genetic make-up or my physiology. Everything is so bare-bone basics, it's dry, and with current test scores I'm having a hard time motivating myself to learn more. Instead of making review sheets, I just want to eat a lot of food and curl up in my bed (I'm menstruating, so I get tired).
Mostly I care about wildlife threatened by human development, beautiful creatures who own the land long before we got here. I want the Amur leopards to remain part of the scenery, and when my work is done I want to sit back in my little house in the forest and watch other creatures thrive in the simple act of living, just as I am in my little house. I don't care about much else for the rest of the world because I believe we make things too complicate for ourselves with our strange and excessive needs. Just keep things simple. There's nothing more beautiful than a balanced life, and the more complicated it is, the more difficult it is to balance. I'm not impressed by a complexly balanced life, but by a simple, solid one. Detailed brush stokes are often unnecessary in carrying the painting's message across.
I'm not Ivy League sophisticate. I'm just a commoner trying to get some useful knowledge out of an institution filled with knowledge, but what you're asking me to learn right now is useless! I don't want to have to take an art class to raise my GPA; I want to take a science class that's actually interesting and useful. I care that I get to learn about photosynthesis and DNA replication, but I'm just really, really bored and I want to get to the fun stuff. With today's photographic technology, I want to photograph and document all the species in the world and create one massive encyclopedia for them, grouped by their location and identifying how this species is important to this ecosystem. This is why I want to be a photographer for National Geographic. My PhD student is studying brain-to-body ratios of different creatures to determine if that might provide any precursors to a species's vulnerability to environmental changes. Having a big brain-to-body ratio allows greater adaptation to environmental changes, but bigger brains cost more to feed. Smaller brains are easier to maintain, but might not allow adaptation. Which factor is true, and can we use that knowledge to determine which animal species are more prone to endangerment? That's important knowledge to learn, and its fascinating to me. This is why I want to be a researcher, because I am patient enough and detailed enough to sit and sort through mountains of data, provided I am interested in the subject.
I want to travel to places in the world heavily impacted by human progress and restore it the way an artist or architect might restore an old house, or scrap used objects and make new things. When I remake that abandoned, crippled land, I'll make sure people can live in it, harmonious with their surroundings and with sustainable comforts. I will not touch unharmed lands, will not expand human territory any more than it is now. In this way, I want to be an architect, and I need you geneticists, physicians and politicians out there to prevent us from overpopulating, because I don't know how to help the animals when everyone's pushing for more land to live on. I can only hope that there are enough abandoned, crippled lands for me to restore, and that I won't ever have to tear new grounds. I'm fascinated by the small sanctuaries that people in New York and San Francisco can create for themselves, small, unobtrusive spaces that provides a person all they need for survival. Only rich people can have that, so let's make it hip and new to encourage that sort of living. Ironically, as soon as I can I want to run away from the big cities and space-efficient houses to enjoy the great outdoors.
I want space-efficiency in cities because I want to be able to enjoy nature without intrusion. So cramp all the humans together in their own chaotic world and leave my wilderness alone.
Oh look, I'm channeling all my anger and bitterness away from my biology class. I know many people might protest my treatment of humanity, but really people, is there really any space within human civilization for other species that do not suit our needs? Do we truly pay attention to the diminishing wilderness even as we plan our next construction site? I inherit this Earth, too, and all the consequences that our past actions have left us, and I want to do something to change it, in the smallest way possible that's manageable for me.
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And speaking of treehouses...
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