life, my own interpretation

a couple years ago i took a college drawing class. i loved almost everything about it: the feel of the charcoal dust on my fingers, the cool cement floor of the studio, the air so thick with creativity that you could get schwacked in the head with an idea if you weren’t paying attention. yes. i loved it. well…except for the professor. he was one of those of the mind that there was a correct way to draw. art is an interpration, i mentally yelled at the back of his head after he came over to critique my drawing, maybe i want it to look crappy.

 

lately, God is acting an awful lot like that professor. for last few years i have been content to just hunker down into life, being complacent, ok with being just so/so. but He is pushing me out of my little swallow nest. urging me to do some of those things that i love, to let the world see what he can do through me. you would think getting the chance to do something i love would thrill me. actually it scares me. i am so afraid of failing, especially at something i adore.

 

 but maybe i don’t have to be perfect. but maybe God just wants to me to use my own interpretation. to just try. i guess i can do that, if that’s what he’s asking.

 

i realize that i’m not being very coherent right now. this is starting to be a rather stream-of-consciousness post. i’m just trying to muddle through my own sewage more than i’m trying to write something pretty for you to read. sorry about that.

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