So, here I am. Sitting in my front bedroom studio in a new home with a new life. I just moved down to Navarre, Florida to finally follow a path I’ve dreamed about for years – to try to make something of myself as an artist. No more dashing out the door of my Washington DC apartment wearing a suit and gripping my coffee. It has only been a few days and my four daily cups already feel unnecessary.
You see, for a long time, my heart (and increasingly my head) have been out of the game. I was spending long hours at the office chipping away at work I did not care about, constantly worried about how much energy it would leave for me to pursue my true goals, which were to learn about, write about, and most importantly, to make art. In truth, it never really added up. I will question right here and now: I don’t think it’s feasible for most artists to pursue a lifelong career while also working at another job, especially a job that pays enough to support their art, given that said job will likely be a suck on both time and energy levels.
I am lucky that I can take a little time right now, have a space to work and a roof over my head, plus a little money in the bank to gamble with. Maybe it will work out, maybe it won’t. I can always go back to the cubicle warren. But for now I’m free and I can never say I didn’t try.