Crafty Monks

I always wondered what would have happened if I kept up with my Lego collection. They inspired me to become an architect for a year or two, but I never followed through. It would have been easy to fall into. During an art class my freshman year, I noticed a class on a ledge above the art studio being taught by a monk. They were using graphing paper and protractors and multiple types of pencils. They were designing but I couldn’t make out what of, perhaps just simple blocks, bridges, that sort of stuff. I never made it up to ask about the class; it honestly didn’t cross my mind. By that time, I started to use my Legos less. In fact, I had even given away half my collection to my best friend’s younger brother in hopes that they would inspire him more than they did me. Passion. I realized I didn’t have the passion to devote myself to such a wonderful field of math and design. Which is odd; math came so easy to me. I basically taught myself algebra and geometry. I even remember doing my pre-calc homework in class the same day it was assigned because I understood the concepts so quickly. But just because something comes easily doesn’t mean it’s worth pursuing. Some would argue that’s exactly what makes it not worth your time. Even the laziest person looks for challenges in life (like seeing how much work they can avoid doing).

That’s why I write. Granted, I hear I’m good at it. My teachers have been praising my storytelling abilities since middle school when I was inspired by medieval role playing games, but I have to consistently try. There’s no formula to good writing or stories, despite what anyone tells you. Every writing rule is meant to be broken but only at the right time, when it’s necessary or service a purpose stylistically. I have to try to get pass the voices telling me a tale I’m spinning is crap. I have to distinguish whether that voice is right or trying to hold me back. It’s a fun game, honestly. Draining but fun. Like today, I scrapped a short skit because the characters were underdeveloped, and the plot device was actually just a prop. Though, I do love the prop, so I’ll come back to it eventually. In the meantime, I think I’ll start workshopping a fantasy world featuring a mystical monk that teaches students how to craft objects with spoken math equations. It could work.