This year will be better. This year will be much much better. Even if a teaching job doesn’t make its way into my lap and I am unable to wrangle one to the ground, by the summer, I’ll be working. I love art. I really love art- I love to look at it, I love to make it, I love to share it, but all of the affection and passion becomes something of a secondary interest when money is on my mind. Let me clarify: all of the affection and passion becomes secondary when a personal deficit is on my mind. So yes, even if I have to work three jobs and cannot find a collegiate teaching job by this time next year, the deficit will not return. Of course, even better than tackling my budgetary problems, this year will mark the end of my single life and the beginning of married life with Kara. Wedding planning is interesting, with twist and turns unforeseen for a normal event. It’s one of things that, if you had it to do over again, you’d have all the right questions to ask from the start…trouble is that you never do have to do it again and that’s the point. This year a lot of people we know will be getting married, actually. It’s going to be one hell of a year. I also graduate with my MFA in June. I hope this bet pays off.
In this week between sessions, I feel like I’ve wasted much of my time shopping for things I can’t afford in order to accomplish something I’m not sure I still want to accomplish. Video editing. I’m sure I’ll do something with it, but right now I want to paint. Moreover, I want to paint with wax. I’ve spent a lot of time writing about what my work means to me and what my intentions are, but all in all, I’m still not sure. Certain things interest me and more than that, I think certain things look really cool. I want to preserve moments. You know the moments, the ones you live and think to yourself, “Am I going to remember this in twenty years? Even ten years?” And then you think, “I really hope so because this moment right here is the perfect moment. A moment like this is why I’m here” Every now and again that happens to me and I try my hardest to not let it go. Little do I realize until another moment approaches that I never really held it- never even touched it. Those moments happen in line at the grocery store as often as they do sitting against a barn during some October dusk, soaking in the sloping orchards before you and the warm sunlight through the dry autumn air.
Do you remember in the movie “Office Space” when Peter Gibbons recounts the story of his guidance councilor who would ask him what he would do if he fell into money and never had to work again? He never had an answer when he was a kid. As an adult, he realized that his lack of an answer was his answer. He would do nothing. Sometimes that’s what I’m afraid my answer would be. I know it would be open up a book store/art gallery and travel as frequently as possible, but sometimes, just sometimes, nothing is the answer.
I haven’t read what I’ve just written down but I’m afraid it may have come off a bit despondent and melancholy. Rest assured, I’m neither. I’m just worried about the coming year and trying to be as hopeful as possible. All I know is that for me, 2009 was filled with hotel work, being broke, and self-doubt. All of these things I wish to avoid in 2010. Regardless of how successful I am, I know that by the end of the year, I’ll have finished school, married the love of my life and will still have an outrageously supportive circle of friends and family. That, my friends, makes for one hell of a year.