Waiting...some more.
So my latest rant on the Peace Corps includes one tiny error that I just realized today when re-reading an email from my latest PC liaison. I thought it said someone would contact me for a final interview, but that was me rushing and mis-reading. It said that someone will contact me after a final review. Which means its not going to take as long as I thought, and I have absolutely no more say in the process. This translates to me being even more nervous, my instinctual reaction to having no control over a situation.
In other news, my boss found money for me if I get delayed, so I'm at least in NY until the end of March if I want to be. Which I do. I love my job, and I'm going to be really sad when it's over. Today, I got to interview a 70 year old visual artist named Emmett Wigglesworth who had an outlook on art that made me want to change my life. He believes that inspiration for art comes to him from an outside source and it's his responsibility to share those messages with everyone. He paints murals so that they can be put in public places for all to enjoy and most of his works are in hospitals and public schools--places that need art but can't pay for them. He told a story about painting the hallway in a children's ward of a hospital so that they wouldn't be afraid when they walked down it. He calls me "sister" and is one of the nicest men I've met in this whole project.
People like that make me want to find as much money as I can and start after school art programs for kids in Brooklyn. The arts keep getting taken away, especially now because of the recession, and some kids just can't respond to math and science, the "cornerstones" of education. People give me shit for being an English major, but I've never been happier that I majored in an art field, one that supposedly only leads to being a teacher. I'll do what I want. And I can use big words when I do it.
In other news, my boss found money for me if I get delayed, so I'm at least in NY until the end of March if I want to be. Which I do. I love my job, and I'm going to be really sad when it's over. Today, I got to interview a 70 year old visual artist named Emmett Wigglesworth who had an outlook on art that made me want to change my life. He believes that inspiration for art comes to him from an outside source and it's his responsibility to share those messages with everyone. He paints murals so that they can be put in public places for all to enjoy and most of his works are in hospitals and public schools--places that need art but can't pay for them. He told a story about painting the hallway in a children's ward of a hospital so that they wouldn't be afraid when they walked down it. He calls me "sister" and is one of the nicest men I've met in this whole project.
People like that make me want to find as much money as I can and start after school art programs for kids in Brooklyn. The arts keep getting taken away, especially now because of the recession, and some kids just can't respond to math and science, the "cornerstones" of education. People give me shit for being an English major, but I've never been happier that I majored in an art field, one that supposedly only leads to being a teacher. I'll do what I want. And I can use big words when I do it.