Another rabbit has hopped into my life today. Good things on my horizon. It’s been difficult though.
Lately I’ve felt quite lonely. The feeling hits the hardest when I’m talking to someone or trying to be around others. The hallow feeling when you know what you’re saying is pure bullshit and where your at is not where you want to be. I’ve been having an interesting time at work. The job itself is fun, and the stress of working for a Michelin Star is real, but the people populating the building are far too much melodrama for me. I have enough going on and I feel as if more people need hobbies. Instead they sit around and instigate; loving to watch that drama fire burn. Its weird because I do want people around me, but I don’t want to be around the people who want to be around me. I feel hypocritical about it, but I’m really fucking tired of talking about other people and listening to the bitch bitch bitch or dealing with the needy-pushy-desperate nature of people’s insecurities.
I hadn’t realized it when I was working for that last hotel, but now that the space is smaller and the kitchen hotter its so glaringly obvious how miserable these people are with themselves. I’ve ostracized myself by taking on more work and wanting more than to watch tv or drink all day long. I want art. I want to create art. I want stability. It might make me weird, but the idea of creating something and being able to see that you’ve added into the beauty of the world can’t be a bad thing can it?
I’ve been thinking about what I’m going to do now that I’m out of school. I definitely need a side gig, but I really don’t want a second job. I emotionally couldn’t handle it. I have been playing with the idea of trying to profit off of my art but I have such a weird relationship with that idea it’s been hard to pick up the pen, so to speak. Let me explain:
I had a pretty toxic relationship where I wasn’t “allowed” to do things unless it would bring in money. Oh you want to get back into ceramics? You want to paint something? You better make it profitable or I can’t let you do that. It was something they’d said about a lot of things and, although fucked up, we grew up poor with a scarcity mindset. It felt natural for me to agree with them, because that was something that I’d heard all of my life and the idea of doing something that just gave me joy felt wasteful. I felt ashamed for wanting to create things if I couldn’t make it make money. Money is also the way that your art is perceived as good. I’m all about a healthy relationship with money, but what about a healthy relationship with your passions? Monetary value of a thing, although nice if you can make it happen, shouldn’t be the end goal or the measure against your talent.
Having the idea that I would need to make my art be something popular enough to be lucrative also put so much stress on me to make something that fit in with the zeitgeist of Pinterest or Instagram, and made me feel like I was just replicating someone else’s ideas. I felt that the things that I wanted to do weren’t original or professional enough and I ended up collecting elements for art, but never actually making anything. I also wanted to experiment with a lot of different types of art: wood burning, painting, sewing, glass work, on and on and I was always being told that I needed to pick one and stick with it, because I’d never master the art form if I jumped around. I always love how people who don’t create art want to tell you how to do it.
My block is mental. Nothing physically in my way aside from the overlying taint in thoughts and conflicting voices telling me that my way and my wants are silly and I need to focus on something real. I could keep working for someone else and hopefully I could get a promotion and not have my insane commute or I could try to do something different. In a way my job and the fact that I’m having to drive so far away to get there is helping me want to do my art that much more and solidify my vision for things. It is a daily meditation for me to just sit and think. Some artists go to beautiful vacation spots or retreats in other countries shoveling out tons of money to play the part and I’m just not that kind of person. For me it was a 4 hour commute.
Getting past that mental block is the first step along my path. Anyone these days who is artistic has to deal with the strain from society and fighting it is a different battle for all of us. The typical approach to life is that you go to school, get the job, get the family and then that’s it *poof* you’re happy. I was on a path that would have led me to that and it was depressing for me. Was that really it for me and my life? I felt guilty for wanting more and I had to constantly defend my position when I started to chase it. I’m still defending myself. I’m not saying that it’s wrong if someone wants the typical life I just knew that it was a depressing idea for me and that’s why I had to start chasing things that would excite me and things that would challenge me. 50,000 miles later I’m halfway there.
This is my struggle. I’d been wanting to make this site a space for my art and I’m feeling as if I have my thoughts straight enough to be able to make it work. My wants are no longer nebulous and I can see a little bit of light through the forest. Just writing has been my small act of defiance against the universe and I always know I’m heading in the right direction when a rabbit enters my life. Now I just have to catch the cute bastard.