My interest in arts

Hello there!

  It has been a few days, but I can finally say that I am studying. Yup, that's right, me, the eighteen-year-old who still loves pluches and won't sleep in a completely dark room because it so CrEePY.
  A few days ago I had my first lecture by an american professor, who's name I just can't remember. Great. I'm such a good student. (And I was so late as well, because well, traffic *sighs).
  Back to the point though, she said it was a good idea to keep up a blog because it would improve one's writing skills. I literally put in my notes: "have been trying that for over a couple of years now, doesn't work." You know guys, I love writing on my little blog and I do it with all the fun and pleasure I could possibly have, but I'm still not good at academic writing.
  However, it would be a big mistake to not (at least) try, so that's what I'm doing today: I'm writing a small piece in English, because that's what I'm going to do at university as well. And what better way to practice than this..?


  I could write a very romantic story all about how I've always loved art and would always run away in musea because I had my own taste in arts. That is, however, not the truth. I was a pretty interesting toddler, not gonna lie, but not one who came out of the womb screaming: "WHERE IS MY ART!11! WHERE IS THE MONA LISA?!1.?" Would be cool though.
  No, girls and boys, I haven't always been that interested in arts. I didn't really mind, but I didn't really liked it either. However, my parents slightly, um, HATED arts, so we would never ever visit musea. It's okay now, I've forgiven them.
  My interest was lighted in my art history classes. I loved getting to know the old cultures and their art. It gave me a real magical feeling. Just the idea of those old cultures making "things" and those works still existing, while avaible for pretty much the whole world to study them, sounded amazing to me.
  I remember me, dragging my mum and sister through the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam, where all the big masters and painters hung. I was amazed by how pretty the building and works were and I loved seeing all these old pieces, just as beautiful as ever. The idea that those had been painted years ago, was unbelievable for me. I loved staring at these works and just imagining who had painted them, where, what they felt, what they were doing.

  Art is such a precious "thing". It is something we have always been making, and we probably always will be making. Something that is universal, considered pretty and can give you a most wonderful view of a certain time period and the ideas back in those days.
  I really like art and I would encourage all of you to just open your eyes and see some art for yourself. It surely isn't always that boring as one might think. It can be cool. It can be amazing.

  I'm sorry if there are still any grammer mistakes or typos left. English is not my first language, and I'm just writing this for practice. Thanks for understanding, folks.

I'll write you later,

Floor