Jolie's field notes

I’m at the edge of my seat, soon to announce what I've been working on for the last few months. This reflection is the first of many pieces I’ve been brewing. If anything here resonates, you can find me on X or joliegcy [@] gmail.com. I also share semi-regular updates. New students, wanderers, staunch critics, or even to riff. I'm open. What they don’t tell you about school is that it ends on a random given Wednesday. Two weeks ago I wrote my final final, and just like that, la fin. I found myself basking on the steps of the exam hall for the two hours that followed, dragging my feet just because I could. There was a magnetic weight to the place – I didn’t want to leave, I couldn’t, not yet. Something about endings makes you nostalgic for even the parts you struggled with. My relationship with university has been tumultuous at best—a love-hate affair that leaned heavily toward the latter until, one day, it didn’t. I’d become sentimental to an institution I spent years trying to circumv

I’m at the edge of my seat, soon to announce what I've been working on for the last few months. This reflection is the first of many pieces I’ve been brewing. If anything here resonates, you can find me on X or joliegcy [@] gmail.com. I also share semi-regular updates. New students, wanderers, staunch critics, or even to riff. I'm open. What they don’t tell you about school is that it ends on a random given Wednesday. Two weeks ago I wrote my final final, and just like that, la fin. I found myself basking on the steps of the exam hall for the two hours that followed, dragging my feet just beca