Blissfully Polychronic

Before matriculating into the American University to study international relations and foreign affairs, I was going to be an artist. I was sure of it. I was the president of both the poetry and art clubs in my high school, and spent most of my time outside of the classroom recording music by myself or with my friends. How I ended up an International Relations major is another story altogether, but my frustrations with polychronic and monochronic time, in retrospect, probably played a large role in this transition.

"Art can't handle deadlines!" is something my senior art adviser would hear me say constantly when I would show up empty handed for class. Though an easy excuse for a lazy painter, I still believe it to be true. When I was creating more art and music, my life was blissfully polychronic, and what motivated my work was not a looming deadline, but pure muse. I gritted my teeth less, and slept much better during this time. However, as my school urged me to expedite my creative process in order to make application deadlines for various collegiate fine arts programs, I found myself questions my passion for it more and more. They were bending me into monochronic rigidity, and it disturbed me.

I did end up getting together a portfolio, and was accepted to some of the most prestigious fine arts programs in the country, but I knew from the process that making art my career was not a wise decision. Though I miss being able to paint as much, I do not resent or hate art, and believe that giving my creativity a deadline would have just made me loathe it.

Although I do grit my teeth, wrinkle my forehead, and get much less sleep than is healthy or normal, the study of International Relations--for all its miserable monochronic-ness--has become a new passion. Although I find myself slipping into a former polychronic self and scribbling away a night that would be much better spent studying, or blogging, I am perfectly happy in that moment. That was the trade-off, and I am glad it worked out.