Three Days in New York City

Do you know that John Mayer song? Freefallin’? I’m listening to it right now, sitting on a picnic type table in the middle of a courtyard at nine o’clock at night. I’m surrounded by windows that belong to the dorm rooms of freshmen, trees wrapped with white Christmas lights, and, officially, have been living in New York City for three days. I’m not sure how safe sitting here is, exactly. But I have pepper spray, and security is around the corner. So maybe I am safe.

Over the summer, all of NYU had to read Tea Obreht’s The Tiger’s Wife. Some schools had people write about it, some didn’t. At Tisch School of the Arts we have a book talk. During my book talk yesterday morning, the professor had us reread the passage where the grandfather shares a secret moment with his granddaughter, the protagonist. They experience an unbelievable sight in the middle of a hopeless war, and the granddaughter expresses her aw, stating that her friends won’t believe the story when she tells them. Her grandfather tells her that this is a moment that she cannot share like she thinks she can.

Then the Tisch students started discussing it -the actors, playwrights, filmmakers, visual artists, music engineers, and dancers who’d convened from places as close as Brooklyn and as far as…well…far. Really far. And yet, despite everyone’s obvious differences, the same thing kept coming up:

When something is so special, so sacred, it is hard to share. It is hard to share because of the consequence. The experience itself may lose its value. Your moment is grand in your head and even in your heart, but once you share it and someone expresses doubt, disgust, disinterest – it isn’t what it was anymore. You can’t grow or change from it, but unwittingly begin to weld your lenses to those of others until your vision and your feelings disappear completely in the flame. They become nothing when they might have been everything.

I seriously cannot believe that this is my life right now. And the thing is, I’m not sure how to share it. It’s not that I don’t want to, I do. I really do. And I am going to try. Just remember that everything that I am about to share with you has made me feel things that are extremely difficult to explain. It’s something like being reborn.

Move in day was exciting. I wasn’t scared or sad at all. I had all this stuff and my dad kept saying that I overpacked, but when everything was settled in the room (in what HAS to be record time) it was a perfect fit. I didn’t need anything but an over the door mirror and for my suitemates and roommate to show up. Boy did I luck out. The Healthy Living Dorm.

We have a fitness and academic goal wall, we put little stickers on a map to show all of the places we were from, and my suitemates and I made an extremely healthy and delicious pie with vegan chocolate and a base of chickpeas for a floor mates birthday. Yes, I said chickpeas. I ate falafel for the first time, ran in the street at eight o’clock in the morning, rock climbed, lifted some weights and did pull ups in the style of AJ, our Resident Assistant (who is all kinds of awesome, by the way). I even went to a nightclub like party hosted by Tisch, but left after about five minutes because the lights were blinding and the music was so loud people were screaming introductions at one another. It’s fine though. I’m glad I saw what it was. Clubbing-type situations are not for me.

There was also a Presidential Welcome and Reality Show that had both my jaw on the floor and the corners of my smile on the ceiling. Oh and I guess I’ve seen another celebrity or two.

See what I mean? Those words did nothing. Yes, my tone is flat, lacking inflections. There’s nothing I can say that will paint this picture for you. For the first time in my life I am free of guidelines and restrictions. I am free from the boundaries of a place where I needed to be able to drive to get somewhere, where I needed permission to do things, where I had to worry about other peoples’ time windows. I am free of having to plan every outing weeks ahead of time to be able to get clearance to go. This morning, I read a book in the park! That never happens, you know?

Annnnnnnd we’ve just had a fire drill. I was typing that last sentence and the alarm went off and everyone in the building piled out. I am so glad I had my ID, cellphone, and keys, because seriously – people were caught in the shower.

This means that I have to go. But I have a lot to share and will do so! In my next blog I will even include the thing you usually come here for: advice.

Happy School Year,

~Ariana M Taveras

P.S. Enjoy these pictures, but there are more to come 😉

Ariana

Hi! My name is Ariana and I am so psyched to be a part of the MyMajors team for another year! I love the usual things - reading, writing, books, movies - travel, people, community service (Compassionate Action)! High School was a blast, and my senior year held the kind of Gold I never imagined (the self-fullfilling kind, the family kind, the National kind - you name it). I'm going to Tisch, School of the Arts at NYU this fall; my major is BFA Acting and my studio is Experimental Theater - but my interests run the gamut, so I'm sure I'll be exploring other fields of study as well! Sharing 17 with you was great - let's see what 18 has to offer - the City is calling ;)

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