Graduation, May 7, 2011

(If you want, you may skip my history and go straight to the "life lessons.") 

In the continuing bad judgment of Webster University (Webster Groves, MO), they allowed me to graduate with a degree of Bachelors of Music in Composition. Not just that, but with university honors Cum Laude and Music Department Honors, as if I achieved something. The most unbelievable thing is that I began school here in August 2007. I seem to remember it. . .

Since I was to live in an on-campus apartment my freshman year, my parents and I put many of my worldly possessions in the back of the truck and took off for move-in day. In one of life's many set pieces, we passed by the three schools I had been through up to that point: St. Jacob Elementary, Triad Middle School, and Triad High School; coincidence can be dreadfully sincere at times. It was just like August to be hot and muggy, which are not the conditions you want when you're lugging things around outside. Thankfully, my apartment was right next to a circle drive, so we were able to pull up and move things quickly. I had my own bedroom and my own bathroom! I met my lone roommate a bit later. We never really hit it off, but we also did not have any problems with each other, so no complaints. The rest of the year is mostly not there in my memory. Having an apartment was, I think, actually a hindrance to socializing, since I had a place on campus I could retreat to after class was done. I watched a lot of movies I never had access to previously.

During my second semester, my parents sold the one house I had lived in for my entire 18 years of existence (in St. Jacob, IL), and over my spring break we moved to Collinsville, IL and a much nicer house. This was much closer to Webster, and this allowed me to become a commuter in my sophomore year. It was during this time that I finally began socializing, as much of my free time was spent in the music lounge with other people. Sophomore year was also a blur (or a bore; I am starting to just skim now).

Junior year, much like high school, was probably the best. I was working in the Music Office with a bunch of lovely ladies. I wrote music for the play Cloud 9, which was produced by the Webster University Conservatory of Theatre (or whatever their official title is). Friendships were deepened. I began voice lessons and participated in Opera Studio, to my delight. It was the first time I felt my compositional abilities were reaching a significant quality. 

I came back for my senior year 40 pounds lighter, after fixing my diet. For No-Shave November (and to annoy my girlfriend) I grew facial hair, much to my aesthetic improvement. It was the first time in my life that I felt good about my looks.

From this. . .

. . . to this.

(The nose remained just as large.)

However, it was also my busiest and, in a way, most harrowing year. My senior composition recital, which I had planned for November, was pushed back to March; I had financial troubles; during the second attempt at a recital, I was also composing and rehearsing music for another Conservatory show, The Wonderful World of Dissocia; applied lessons for piano, voice, and composition; regular school work; a relationship: all this made for a crowded year, which didn't end until the very last day of finals (yesterday, the day before graduation). I am very much relieved.

(Start here if you skipped.)

My first lesson from college is that it is too expensive. I urge you, reader, to find a different route if it is possible, or find whatever free money you can. Just avoid loans. They will be a millstone around my neck for some time coming. There is much I could have learned elsewhere for much less. This does not mean that I regret going to Webster, specifically, but if I knew now what I knew during senior year of high school, I likely would have opted out of college.

It would be improper to say that I met amazing people in college. One meets astounding figures in history, where they have no chance to change anymore. Rather, I now know some of the most dynamic and promising people I have ever been privileged to meet. Even a long life is much too short to get to know people, but in overview, these past four years are crowded with vitalistic individuals, and I can't help but be awed by the greatest gift they have given me, a future to look forward to with impatient earnestness, both for myself and them. It may well be that we founder in seas of misfortune; it may well be that we achieve Fame; but whatever will be, I will not take it in with an apathetic heart. The promise of my peers is exceedingly promising.

The world and I are much different now than in 2007. It has not been made safe for anything, let alone democracy. I feel much more out of touch with the way things are, and where they are heading. Now that I am a full blown anarchist (anarcho-capitalist, to be exact), my hopes for the world at large have darkened considerably, as the people rush headfirst into totalitarianism. I run to freedom. Liberty has replaced art as my raison d'etre, and as an artist, I will forever seek freedom in my works (I will delve into "protest art" or the like; I am too pure an Aesthete for that). Yet, all is not bleak, and a considerable amount of people are realizing the truth, as well as The Truth. Events in the Middle East bring hope that individuals of the world will, one day, find true freedom.

Finally, I feel very much a composer. I can now say that every ladder up that I discover reveals another ladder up, and so. I do not know where I will go, but I do perceive a way forward, and that is good enough right now. After much schooling, I am eager to put it to use. Discovering one's passion is a favorite goal of Modern Person, but it is rather hollow if one doesn't realize that the best pleasures are the difficult ones, the ones that cause initial grief but eventually provide sublime fulfillment. For me, a difficult pleasure is something that continuously leads you to ever greater but also more difficult accomplishments, where every height reveals an even greater height. So one's passion in life must be or be filled with difficult pleasure.

At graduation, I sat in the presence of some of my favorite people, and I can only hope that at least one of them think the same of me. All I can say is, it is done. And now it starts.

Now for a thing of beauty:

Befitting the bright dawn of hopeful future, here is my absolutely favorite bit of music, the second act finale of Mozart's The Magic Flute.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4