Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Starving Artist...

I think about my life and what I've dedicated it to.  The most work I've ever put into something, or the most I've cared about something, was in elementary school.  It was during recess.  My classmates and I had to take one lap around the playground.  I had to be first - and was - every time.  Check your sources.  I am sure there was some dork in my class that kept track and still has the records.

I had to be first.  Someday I'd like to put that passion into my writing.


I've decided, after getting engaged and talking about plans of starting a family, to forgo teaching as the career path.  Instead, I'm going to write a couple poems every few weeks - tip toeing toward starving artist status.  I might as well leap toward this inevitability, become unemployed, and then I could squeeze in another poem or two each month.  This is also inevitable because I am not good at anything - other than writing - poems and a few funny observations.  I am a poet and a comedic observationalist.  That's what I am - and my mom and future wife, or ex-future wife, are going to have to deal with this.  They know this and let me know they know.  What they choose to not observe is that I have to deal with this too - more than them because I am - me. 

I am a starving artist.  Saying I am, followed by something, most likely implies I am that something - otherwise I am not and shouldn't have said that I am - unless, I eventually add that I am a liar.  Let's dissect.

I am starving.  Yes, I am a little hungry this evening, but millions of people across this world wouldn't even beg to differ that I'm not starving - because they physically couldn't beg.  These people are too hung up on their own real starvation to care about how I claim to turn wanting food into an artform -- nevermind beg.  The first part, starving, untrue.

I am an artist.  Qualifications for being an artist today have become as broad as the pool for parents calling their children gifted and talented.  I have not met a gifted or talented kid in almost thirty years - back when I met myself for the first time.  Kids that are forced by their parents to play piano at six months old and become so-called prodigies are not artists.  However, I will never forgive my parents for not forcing me to become an artist. I guess I'm at the point where I have to force myself - and soon - because that five year-old pianist is making me look ridiculous.  The second part, I'm working on it, pending.

Conclusion - I am an aspiring starving artist.

1 comment:

Starving Dad said...

Get to work, you slacker!