I think about this vocation I'm in, the arts. And it brings up questions. For instance, why was I born right-brained? Why didn't God just switch things, so I wouldn't be filled with all these images and ideas, these ridiculous stories and dreams of what life has in store for me on a creative front. I think it would be so wonderful to have the kind of mind that understands math, science, that can figure out a mechanical problem and apply the principles learned through proper schooling.
Of course, it's a ridiculous wish.
I can't change what I am. Working at an art studio for 19 years, and struggling to break into the writing game is proving as difficult as was getting that first paying job as a free-lance illustrator.
The city stumbles and struggles, but as Detroiters, we keep our head down and trudge forward.
One step at a time.
The footing is precarious. And the temptation to flee is there.
But for me anyway, it's a siren song I'll never answer.
Family and friends.
The beauty of the north country.
All of it keeps me trying to make it here.
So like Popeye was fond of saying, "I yam what I yam."
2 comments:
That's the spirit, Joe! We yar what we yar. And I wouldn't change you into someone different, even if it were possible. Happy new year a little late, from a bookseller on the road. The store will be closed through March, and I'll be trying to get some writing done myself, once we're settled down on the Gulf Coast.
Thanks Pamela. I really appreciate it and I feel the same about you. Hope all is well. Keep in touch. Colder than a welldigger's ass.
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