Last week I spoke to a volunteer coordinator about things I'd like to do. I told her that I was getting a minor in art and she told me to send her an e-mail. She cc'd me as she sent it out several places and today I met with a cancer specialist who is coordinating art with his center. I told him of the directions I have been going in and he said, "Yes. Do all of them! Do not limit yourself. All these ideas lead to here."
It was amazing. I met his art coordinator who is a dynamic lady who explained to me that they need volunteers to facilitate art. I can also get paid but for now I want to just work along side her.
I was floored to say the least. I may be able to do my writing internship with them later. It is shocking to see how much is needed and how what I have been trying to decide on can all be wrapped up into a job later.
I am not writing this very well-- I am excited.
Later-- I'm mad. I found some paperwork from 16 years ago. I'd applied to Lesley College to get into art therapy. I let my parents and brother talk me out of it-- they laughed at me. I changed my major and everything (I changed majors a lot) and then got pregnant with dd3 between marriages. I remember the whole period. They complained about everything I wanted to do! They told me what a fucked up life I had when I was pregnant with dd3-- yet I kept going.
Anyway, I realize that I am getting back on track. I can't do an art therapy master's degree because I cannot uproot my family for two years. My husband did say that the program that I am looking at for healing arts (you have residencies for ten days each semester) is quite do-able and with his job being like it is, we can do it.
Here I am, close to doing what I loved then. Older, hopefully wiser with nine kids. Who'd have believed how much I could have done before getting back to it?