State of the (my) Art

*Dusts off about an inch thick layer of neglect from the computer*

“Fuckin hell, how do I use this thing?”

*Bangs on the keyboard with the flat of his palm a few times. Grunts and screams a bit like the ape from that space movie. You know the one. Eventually the screen blinks to life. Happy grunts and claps.*

“Right, well I guess it has been awhile”

Truth is I’ve been in a bit of what you could call “a funk”. Though to be honest it was really more a fact that I chose to spend what free time I have (and it is rather copious compared to a regular 9-5 job) on staying up too late playing video games and then sleeping late into the afternoon. Sounds pretty wicked if you’re a teenager on summer break before college and you’re not cool enough to be getting drunk and laid.

Disclaimer: I do not encourage the lifestyle that popular American TV seems to think that teenagers should engage in. Underage drinking is bad, mmkay?

However when you’re swiftly approaching 30 (two weeks from this Friday! (T_T) ) it isn’t exactly the activity list of someone that engenders respect among your peers. Not that being some sort of distracted “artist” that flits from projects and mediums with all of the attention span of a crack soaked humming bird is any better.

What I’m trying to say is I’ve been suffering from a distinct lack of focus and motivation. I’m willing to admit to myself that it’s entirely my fault. (But video games are so damn entertaining!  NO! STOP IT! BAD JOHN!)

Anyway, I had allowed the concept of not being able to make a living doing these creative things drag down my desire to create like…something really heavy. A lead straight jacket, how about that? Let’s go with that. This is of course stupid. Sure it would be nice to instantly have enough money where I could roll around in hundred dollar bills and laugh in the face of even USA insurance prices. (sick burn)

But that shouldn’t be the point right? If you do things only for the money you turn into a soulless monster. You know, like Republicans. Hah! Just kidding, but not really. Or am I? The point is that just like everyone hates that certain kind of pretentiousness that makes someone claim to be “above” money for their art then it is equally bad to get hung up on solely the pursuit of a stable income wherein you can afford living space and food and maybe a few entertaining gadgets on the side. That’s richer than probably 95% of the world (source: shut up). Thing is I’ve already got that. Sure it could be better. I’ve got a bit of a cockroach problem. I can afford  poison to murder those fucking assholes and watch them twitch their stupid intrusive lives out on my counter top, though. (Don’t look at me like that, I never claimed to be a Buddhist. I’d happily be a cockroach Hitler if I could just work out the logistics.)

That might have gone a little far. Warning: This post might contain graphic imagery, vulgar language, and jokes made in extremely poor taste.

That should do it.

I guess the real point to all of this is that it doesn’t really matter if a population smaller than most towns in the Alaskan wilderness ever see what I produce. If I enjoy making it, learn new things, and feel good about what comes out then it’ll be worth it on some level. We’re all just little specks of dust hurtling around a pinprick of constant atomic explosions being flung through a vast infinite distance. My problems are pretty small even in terms of that realization.

So it’s time to harden the fuck up (HTFU) and get to creating.

Though it’s getting late, I’ll probably just play a little Diablo 3 before bed. It’s easy to stop whenever I want…

 

(By the way, it’s been over a year since I’ve quit smoking and you could’ve popped out a kid since I quit drinking so things aren’t all bad)