An Artist's Daily Grind

The grand arrival never arrived. I've hunted, searched, scratched, and clawed for days, hours, minutes, and seconds to the point of an epiphany; it's not going to happen. Then suddenly, the reality of it all hits you like a sack of breaks falling from a mason's scaffold. You're never really ready for it.

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Have I spent hours pursuing an endeavor I am not made to thrive? Have I wasted countless years, money, and relationships seeking an idea that will never come to fruition? Where does this leave me in today's world? Knowing this proverbial ship has sailed, and all I can do is wave goodbye as the vessel vanishes over the horizon. I feel a knot in my stomach, twisting me into a puzzle that can't be undone.

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Questions arise from the sudden realization of where you are at in life. What should I do now? What can I do with all the knowledge and skills I have gathered? Do I file this love away in the vault of my heart and look upon it as an ancient relic, knowing everything about it yet never fully understanding it? Do I pass it on to others to help them avoid the wasted commodity of time? Am I a failure? If so, but what measure? Does the fact that I have made so very little money from my investments prove the latter?

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Does it prove I've touched no lives or given no inspiration? Have I stirred no emotions? Money aside, are not these ideas the reason we pursue art first? The idea of moving people. What then if no humans are not touched? Art might as well be scribbling on a piece of construction paper from an excited toddler; pointless, meaningless. It all seems so unworthy looking at it from this perspective. Why do I keep on with it? Why continue the perusal? Why bother to lean in so hard to gain an edge?

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It's all I know, even from a very early age. It's the one thing I come back to time after time with new inspiration, new hope, and the thought that maybe after this project, it will be different. But isn't that the problem right there; this idea of success exclusive to art? Can the two be even separated in the 21st century?

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Not to disillusion me even more, but success is defined by clicks, views, likes, shares, states, and income. Is this the world we have built, where success is nothing more than a marketing strategy on YouTube, Facebook, or Instagram? How sorrowful it all seems. Would Picasso, Van Gough, or Van Dyke have been successful in today's time? Could they have even afforded to market their beautiful works to see? Would they even have been appreciated as much today if they were starting? I think therein lies the answer. The past artist didn't worry about fame, fortune, popularity, or degree of success. They just did what they knew to be true to themselves. It felt right to them, so they pursued it. What is purer than that?

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In that sense, I am not a failure but a success. Where you focus your attention tends to be what you stress over. Somewhere in my adventure, I lost sight of what I was doing. I am akin to the Christian in the Pilgrims Progress, losing his way for a bit, only to realize he needs to straddle the path once again. In these low moments, I think we are forced to re-evaluate our stance on art and ask why? Why am I doing this? What purpose does this serve to me? What benefit do I receive from this? What use does my viewer, reader, or listener gain from my work?

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Stop consuming your passion upon your wanting ego is how I'll end this ranting of mine. Think of others. Remember, I am just a tiny piece of the world. How does what I do help them?