(no subject)
I got home from Arizona yesterday.
For anyone who didn't realize I was gone, I went with my youth group and stayed on an indian reservation.
See also: Dilcon.
Sometimes I look back at my last posts and have a different view of whatever subject I was talking about.
See also: mindset.
But for the record, my last post was completely on target. What timing.
Those songs I tried so enthusiastically to block out before could be heard coming from my lips this past week.
That whole idea of communicating that I gave up on a while ago? I tried it again.
I tried it for about half an hour while sitting in near darkness on the edge of a desert.
The edge of a painted desert.
The edge of a desert so beautiful that nothing I could paint would even begin to compare.
I don't really know what I'm doing.
It was inspiring and I was impressed, but now when I step outside I don't see red clay and mountains.
Now I see my driveway with the car and its full tank of gas.
I can see my cell phone and its four bars of service.
I can hear my friends from school on the phone wanting to hang out.
And I'm not surrounded by twenty-three people with the same first priority.
Living in Dilcon, Arizona, I knew how I wanted to be.
It lasted until the bus ride home from Tampa, when I started recognizing buildings.
See also: Keeton's Office Supplies.
Living in Bradenton, Florida, even on the first day back, things aren't quite as clear.
For anyone who didn't realize I was gone, I went with my youth group and stayed on an indian reservation.
See also: Dilcon.
Sometimes I look back at my last posts and have a different view of whatever subject I was talking about.
See also: mindset.
But for the record, my last post was completely on target. What timing.
Those songs I tried so enthusiastically to block out before could be heard coming from my lips this past week.
That whole idea of communicating that I gave up on a while ago? I tried it again.
I tried it for about half an hour while sitting in near darkness on the edge of a desert.
The edge of a painted desert.
The edge of a desert so beautiful that nothing I could paint would even begin to compare.
I don't really know what I'm doing.
It was inspiring and I was impressed, but now when I step outside I don't see red clay and mountains.
Now I see my driveway with the car and its full tank of gas.
I can see my cell phone and its four bars of service.
I can hear my friends from school on the phone wanting to hang out.
And I'm not surrounded by twenty-three people with the same first priority.
Living in Dilcon, Arizona, I knew how I wanted to be.
It lasted until the bus ride home from Tampa, when I started recognizing buildings.
See also: Keeton's Office Supplies.
Living in Bradenton, Florida, even on the first day back, things aren't quite as clear.