Welcome to my brain.

art and hands and art

I have been working really hard the past few months (or years) on my art. I've been trying to improve my skills and learn new things. School has done a lot for me, but I think I've done a lot of discovering on my own. I told my professors this week about my plans and I received better responses than I expected. 

I actually sat with my human geography professor for almost two hours over coffee, and she's brilliant. She's very peculiar; she is exactly what you would expect a good college professor to be. She's strange and not a lot of students like her because of that, but she's very knowledgeable and kind. She wants what's best for her students and teaches them to the best of her ability. Even in a class of 200 students, the class feels intimate, and like she wants us to know what she is teaching. When I got coffee with her, I found out that she is a devout Christian, and she applauded me for following my heart. She had so much hope in her eyes, I think maybe because I had it in mine. Her words to me were, "You have to do what makes your toes smile."

My art professors automatically assume that the reason I'm dropping, or "taking time off" as they say, is that my hands are not well. They're not totally wrong. My hands have played a major part in my decision. It's harder to communicate what the heart wants to a bunch of liberal artists, so I usually milk the hands portion and then casually slip in, "yeah I can do this without school and also Jesus wants me to be somewhere else lol" 

Though I'm namely dropping out to pursue the desires of my heart, I also am recognizing that I need to rest. I am constantly working, drawing, crafting, making sweet sweet espresso drinks, and I am restless. I am fidgety with my hands and my mind and nothing ever stops, but it has to. The past three days, I've had my right wrist wrapped up to my knuckles for the past three days and I haven't really been able to use it. I've been doing everything primarily with my left hand. Which is hard. I've also been closing at work a lot. Which is anywhere from being a 6 hour shift to a 10 hour shift. I usually don't get home until around 1:00 a.m. It's a good job and I like it a lot. I don't even care that I don't sleep much, because this is the first job I've had that I actually love doing. It's like a small happy family. But it's destroying my hands. And my manager doesn't know about my hands because I'm scared that she won't let me work because whenever people find out, they don't want to do anything that will make my condition worse. Though I'm not sure what does make my condition worse. I imagine everything I do. So what's the point in telling her if I'm going to do what I'm going to do anyway. Because I'm going to do what I'm going to do. 

I have been making art and I have improved immensely over the past year. All with my broken little body. I'm not sure how reliable it will be as a career, considering my little body is broken, but I'll do it for as long as I can. Then I'll be a  librarian or something that doesn't hurt me. But I'll hold out on that for as awhile hopefully. Being a librarian doesn't sound like fun to me.

Again, I don't know where this is going. But if people felt offering up a prayer, I think that would be okay. For my hands, which have never been worse honestly, and for my sanity, which is slowly slipping away every time I think about my future and art and anything that I'm not sure about.

one busy kid

human appreciation