I don't know whether I have a death anxiety or a genuine fear of growing old. There's a difference between both, of course. What I do know: the thought of owning brittle bones and a scrap body like Emanuelle Riva in Haneke's Amour and having my semi-nonfunctional partner scoop wet food into my mouth until my end days terrifies me.
I have a general theory as to why I've always been enamored with the relationship between art and technology: The combination represents ever-present youth. There's so much room for play, and with this loving marriage I've been able to express my alien rugrat self perfectly.
I probably expect more from this class because I'm older and already have a BA in something not as hands-on as I would have liked and have a few itchy regrets. But I'm (very) happy to be enrolled...and to have fun with two subjects I love very much.
Regrets! That makes you old.
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