Travel is bad for art. Wine is bad for art. Staying up late is bad for art.
What my art needs is a plastic chair and a uniform schedule.
My dream is to turn my hobbies into professional pursuits, which has the dual effect of 1) earning money and 2) spending more time doing what I enjoy and less time “working”. It’s a snowy peak I’m aiming for. But other creators have made it – they’re busy making it this very minute – and all I have to do is follow their boot prints.
The good new for regular guys like me is, whatever your wildest dream is, somebody’s already achieved it.
Billionaire? Civil Rights Giant? Lead Vocalist? Restaurant Owner?
Oh baby it’s all been done a million times. You just have to find the right blueprint is all.
You just have to bounce around a few different cities, a few different careers, and a few different relationships first. You have to watch the first third of your life slide by. Or however long it is, to realize that nobody’s gonna bring the holy grail to your doorstep. Nobody’s gonna push your ass up the ladder because nobody feels bad for you.
It’s not that we’re jerks, we’re just too busy feeling bad for ourselves.
When you realize that it’s all your fault, then magically the prison door falls off it’s hinges. Now you can take your blueprint and spread it across the table like a treasure map. Draw a line from A to B and walk it like a mile-high tightrope. You owe it to the kid you used to be.