Continued from the last post:
The artists I met up with in New York are waiting tables teaching, un-employed, spending wee hours trying to get that last detail in before calling it a day. They’re showing work, and have formed a community in the city with a support system similar to what I experienced in Bulawayo, Zimbabwe. I find myself with a 9-5 making money and not living paycheck to paycheck, but man is the art suffering. Art is becoming that wife that is ignored and cheated on right now. I can explain it urban terms…I got a chick that makes me feel good but when I’m with her I’m broke cuz I’m always spending money and time on her…I got this other chick that when I’m with her she takes care of me and pays my bills. I feel better with the chick that makes me broke cuz emotionally that’s a real female, but I can’t support her like I want to….feel me? I constantly asked myself while driving back to the Sleepy Hollow town of Providence, “It’s nice to pay the bills on time and not live from check to check, but is it worth it if the art suffers in the process?†I can no longer spend 30 hours in the studio in any given week. I have to eat away at it a hour or two a day as long as my arm can properly hold the brush. Is this new experience of holding down an all day job delaying the gratification of the art making process of yester-academia-year?
To be continued…