25, 25... and before I know it I'll be 26, 27, 28... hmmmmmmm one day on the way home I started thinking of my mom. I was trying to figure out her exact age when she passed away. I realized she must have been 36 only, so young. That's like me in 10 years... I can't imagine what I would do if I could foresee the future and know that I only have 10 years left to live. What would be the one thing that I must achieve, within the 10 short years? It's all about perspective, and when you put age and time into that sort of context you realize 10 years is incredibly short, and given that you start to realize many things don't matter, only a few. Success still matters, but in a very different way than how I envision it now. I think to me I would be happy living a full life on a day to day basis, which should include all my family and friends. I wouldn't want to spend time on petty stuff, nor people. I wouldn't care for having the best things in the world except I would demand having the best time of life, at all times. I would probably try to see as many places as possible, and would probably want to find someone and just fall madly in love with. I would pursue whatever it is I want w/o fear of failure since that wouldn't mean much in the end, what's a failure and a rejection when I know I only have limited amount of time to try everything there is that I want to try? Basically I would be a lot more pro-active than I am now, and a lot more daring and less careful about things than I am now. I wonder if my mom felt her life was complete, at 36? Even though it seemed short but I feel like she had a very eventful life, and I guess that's really what I would shoot for, an eventful life and an optimistic attitude towards life.

Also, something else that came to mind, I must have gotten a part of this fascination with geometry, this like for circles and squares from my mom. I feel as though if I wasn't meant to do this (interior design), then I should have been a critic of some sort. But either way, I recall mom teaching me how to draw a train, which was composed of squares and circles and of course some free form shapes that were supposed to represent the smoke coming out of the train. What was amazing about that drawing is how perfect her shapes came out. The proportion, the straight lines, and of course the lines that formed each shape all had a perfect 90 degrees angle (or in the case of a circle, a perfect circle). I remember being completely frustrated with trying to emulate her drawings to the exact tee, except I couldn't get my circles to look just round enough or my rectangles and squares to look "square" enough. It just didn't look right, and hers were perfect every single time-- because I always asked her to draw more than once so I can see how exactly did she do it. And that's the funny part, my dad has always drew more artistically, more realistically while my mom worked with geometry and I suppose, abstraction with the kind of precision that one can only find as if she were to use a template. For some reason that left an impression on me, and I must have been like what, 3, 4 at the oldest because I don't believe my sister was born yet. The more I think back and the more I dig about my past, in my memory file, I can begin to see how and why I've come to the conclusions I did a couple years back, and made that transition and took that leap of faith and came into this field. I believe all along this is what I meant to do, whether I knew it or not (probably all subconsciously).

So this is awesome. I feel like I've made a discovery about myself, and of course have gained some sort of a clear understanding about mom.