I recall a time when I cursed not having ambition. I blamed it for my lack of success. Now that I think about it, it’s not having ambition, it’s that the goals were lofty. I was gonna go from no-name-artist to international icon and all by the time I was twenty four. Painfully naive thinking. The blissful ignorance fueled my hope. Now is a little different. Reality has taught me the ever important lesson of humility. I’ve grown since then and my ambitions have lessened. Down from lofty to realistic; maybe a notch below.
Currently I’m just trying to get my skills, sites, and content up to snuff. The next step is to make a buck or two. I’m not at all trying to sell out. The aim: to supplement my minimum wage income. In my mind, attempt to make something similar to a blue collar job. In a ton of ways, art is a blue collar job. Blue collar buried underneath splatters of paint. A couple of bucks for an honest day’s work.
I have my doubts that that is gonna happen. The fall from idealistic romanticized thinking to a more realistic level has left me sore. I’d hate to say bitter, more “Ow, my self esteem.” I would compare it to playing the lottery. I spent tons of money, time, and hope into buying lottery tickets. My entire future was based on the lottery winning I was sure to get any minute now. Eight to twelve years later, my faith and certainty are shaken and I’m wondering what is going on . . .
I see the err of my ways. My art, life, and ambitions need to evolve. They are doing so now. I spend a lot of time soul searching.