I try to keep a positive outlook and not add to the general negativity of the internet, but some days just suck, you know? I've been grinding away at this art career thing for seven years now (seven years?!), and sometimes it feels like I'm getting nowhere, or going backwards. Before I took the plunge and went to art school, I was taking accounting classes. Practical, right? Talk about job security; if death and taxes are the only sure things, then you're always going to need accountants.
But no! I thought, I'll follow my passion, my dream. Fabulous. But what is the point if you can't keep food on the table or a roof over your kid's head? Dreams and passion alone don't pay the bills.
Accounting, though. Accounting is practical! It's objective. It doesn't matter whether or not people like your work: what's to like? Either the math is right or it isn't. It's not a matter of taste, it's a matter of fact.
Maybe I'm gloomy because, even though this sketch card thing I've fallen into is fun, it doesn't really pay the bills, and it's not what I'd call artistically satisfying. Isn't that a pretentious phrase? "Artistically satisfying." Bah. And you know what else you fall into? Ruts. Maybe I'm in a rut?
I've just realized I've scheduled my entire "summer off," when I was planning to finish my novel, with official card sets. That's awesome, right? I'm busy, my art on these sets is desired--by the art directors, at least, even if the collectors don't seem to give much of a damn--life is good, right? RIGHT?!
Yeah. I guess this just isn't what I wanted to be doing with my life. Grinding out hundreds of little bitty pieces of artwork for pennies an hour, never a minute of time for my own projects, my own creativity. It's not that I want to be an accountant, maybe I'd just rather only be accountable to myself?
Listening to: Florence + the Machine
Reading: Makers, by Cory Doctorow