a date with vincent

One of the hardest weeks every summer for me is my first week back home. Twice a year, I have to pick up my entire life, pack everything I own into boxes and move four hours away into a tiny bedroom — either in the dorms on Ball State’s campus or in my parents’ basement.

It makes me feel like my life is in shambles — unorganized and chaotic. Clothes for every season are in piles spread sporadically throughout my bedroom and basement, and, because I don’t have a closet, there’s nowhere for me to put the three new piles that have accumulated in the time I’ve been at school. Skirts and socks and sweaters poke out from every drawer and bin in my bedroom until I go through everything, donate all of the clothes I can and fold everything to fit inside the drawers of my dressers. For some reason, it’s incredibly nerve-wracking.

But week one has passed. My clothes are all unpacked and I am officially moved into my parents’ house for the summer, which means it’s time for me to start getting on my new summer routine and writing as much as I can, but also getting every other sector of my life figured out.

For starters, I need to find a job. If you know me, you know one of my favorite things to do is cycle. I have my own stationary bike at home. I somehow pushed it from the Kinghorn parking lot to my suite on the third floor and cycled nearly every morning last semester. So, when I found out the Cyclebar near my house was holding open call auditions for new cycling instructors, I knew I had to try out.

They did want me, but, because I am moving back to school in August, the training and scheduling process would take up most of my summer, and it wouldn't make sense for them to bring me on board now. So, they asked me to come back next May, and I hope I will still have that same passion for instructing as I do now.

There’s always the option of serving again, which I honestly don’t mind, but, if I’m going to be honest with both myself and everyone reading this, I don’t think working with food is the best thing for me at the moment. But, money is money, and beggars can’t be choosers, right?

I’m also hoping to fix my sleeping schedule, because 3 a.m. until noon the following day is definitely not ideal. I feel like I sleep my productivity away, and that’s something I want to avoid this summer. New plan: wake up by 10 a.m., go for a run or cycle and get going much earlier than I currently am.

But, besides working on myself and my new routine, I’ve also made it a goal to do and try new things. With the city of Chicago at my fingertips, the possibilities for new experiences are endless, and I want to take advantage of as many of them as I possibly can.

Experience No. 1: Immersive Van Gogh Exhibit Chicago.

My family and I bought tickets to this popular exhibit on Christmas. The earliest we could get in was May 16, but the wait was entirely worth it. Upon entering, guests are greeted with fun, sunflower arrows stuck to the floor reading “Gogh This Way.” The arrows lead you up an almond blossom staircase, past a black, threaded portrait of Van Gogh and to a banquet hall guarded by curtains.

It’s behind the curtains where the magic happens. Van Gogh’s paintings quite literally come to life on the sky-high white walls, dancing to the music blaring from the speakers in every room and bounding off the mirrors spread sporadically throughout the banquet halls. Completely surrounded by impressionist brush strokes of blue and yellow paint, I fell in love with Van Gogh’s art all over again.

Goosebumps covered my arms as I stood in my socially distanced circle on the floor and spun in slow circles, taking in each and every inch of the artwork on the walls in front of me. I have never experienced anything like it before, and the best way I believe anyone can truly understand what it felt like to stand in that room is to experience it themselves.

But, for now, I will paint the pictures for you with my words the way Van Gogh did with his acrylics.

Until next time,

Taylor