Procrastinating

I always want to blog when I have a big project coming up soon... Monday my first value drawing is due--we've been working on line drawings up to this point. So, of course, I'd rather go to the football game, take a nap, practice guitar, read a book on the art of travel, and blog than work on my impending project. Does that mean I don't love art? I think I love the final product, most of the time, but the process of getting to it can be excruciating. Does that mean I shouldn't pursue art as a career? I've been thinking about art education. I've also been thinking of a summer internship with Food for the Hungry, L'Abri, six months as a "host" at a trade school taking classes for free, and teaching in Prague for six months with Rebekah and John! So many options--so many different ways life could take me, especially depending on who I happen to meet at each place who could lead me to my next destination. I recently decided to try to do as much cheap/free living as possible in the next, say, four years. For example, that trade school--I can stay on the campus and take classes for free if I'm a "host" there--kind of like an RA. If I wanted to get a masters in America, I could be a Resident Director and practically go to the school for free, at some universities. And, I need to research this (a LOT) but my study abroad advisor told me that Swedish universities are FREE for getting your masters, if you already have an undergrad degree. So, Sweden would be pretty awesome. And most of the master's programs are in English :).

There are so many amazing causes/ministries I could pour my life into. Like Food for the Hungry, or rebuilding New Orleans (I don't know how long that will take--I think a while). I went down to New Orleans with Campus Crusade over the fall break. Fellowshipped with some pretty incredible people. It was definitely hard work, and honestly, a little depressing. The elderly woman who owned the house we were working on actually passed away in the flood. She had been picked up by boaters when they heard her screaming in her house, but had a heart attack as she was mounting on a bridge. Oh, that was so sad. And the house itself seemed unsalvagable. We gutted it out (insurance can't cover tearing down houses, which is necessary for rebuilding them). When we got to the wood layer of the floor and walls, we noticed the wood was either termite-infested or burned (I don't know how). I felt like it should have been bulldozed, but if they rebuilt it, it could be really nice. It seemed like it would take more effort that it was worth. Thoughts running through my mind as we pulled her stuff out of her house: Why does she have so much STUFF? I want to live, like Paul in "Through Painted Deserts," with only the clothes on my back (Oh, I read that book when I was there--recommend it, though some of Miller's ideas are weird or incomplete to me.) Another thought, digging through this woman's stuff: this is her whole life--and we're throwing most of it away. What did it mean? She's gone now and this stuff doesn't matter. In sixty years, I don't want to say I've wasted my life. I'm already, possibly, a quarter through it. Maybe more. I hate ending on a morbid note--we won the football game today! Some people live for that--the "weekend." Waiting in line to get into the club, where you can't hear yourself speak or think. Watching them tigers beat them gamecocks. I think there's gotta be more. I could go on--having fun is good. God wants us to enjoy life. But there are more ways to enjoy than hating the week and living for the weekend. I guess that means I should enjoy the process of art projects more, too.