Hm. Started with dancing my way through 12 years of kick-ass public education (thank you, Swedish government, even though I clearly didn’t appreciate it at the time). Learned about cultural history and architecture and how to get A’s without listening and… stuff like that.
Graduated. Thought I’d never set foot in a school again.
4 months later I’m taking Modern Dancing (BREATHE THE AIR! FEEL THE FLOOR) and Public speaking (scored and A and I’ve never been prouder because woh, I absolutely hate, you know, speaking publicly) classes at a college in New Jersey.
Got out of there. Thought I was done with trying to understand the American school system.
Went to Norway, got a PhD in Coffee (well sort of).
Fell apart. Thought I’d had enough of… learning, period.
Somehow got it together, applied for and got accepted at, oh you know, one of the best communication schools in the world. Piece of cake, except for the fact that I was drained of just about every ounce of creativity. Didn’t think I was gonna go through with it… but I did, somehow, and I ended up here.
At an art school.
I’m not an artist. I’m NOT an artist, but it kind of works.
I love learning (I hate studying). And even though I tell myself about ten times a day that I’m over it, that I want to do something else, that I can’t be bothered… there’s a big part of me that absolutely love being a university student.