I finally finished my resume. My daughter, age 23, helped me. My son, age 25, gave it the thumbs up. They have much more experience writing these things than I. When I read it, I was impressed with myself. I’ve done some things. I’m not sure why it was so hard for me to get this done. It’s just words on paper, after all. But in my heart I know that it’s more the action that’s tied to it, now that it’s done, that has me in a spin. I need to get a job. J-O-B. I need this J-O-B to supplement my income from my art, so I can get back on my feet. Have my own place again. Buy materials. Travel again. Places like San Cristobal de las Casas, in Chiapas, Mexico, where I spotted this Mermaid. You’ll grow to learn in this blog, by the way, that I am passionate about Mermaids. And Mexico.
Don’t get me wrong. I have had a J-O-B before. I worked for twenty five years or so, part time and full time, in an office job (cube farm) that I didn’t like very much, under a shitload of pressure most of the time, to pay the bills and provide a nice life for my kids. I nearly flipped my lid more than once, but it paid well. Mission accomplished.
But then I said “muchas gracias por todo”, and “hasta la vista” to that J-O-B, put everything into a 10’x10′ foot storage, sold or gave away the rest, moved out of my apartment, and traveled for four months in Mexico with my partner (native Mexican). It was a kick-off to my new life as a full time working artist. It was brave. It was by far one of the best things I ever did.
Here I am, however, four and a half years later. Turns out I wasn’t the best money manager. The best planner. The best partner. The best boundary setter. I did some things right. I did some things wrong.
So now it is time to confront once again the big questions. How do I make a living with my art? How do I once again become independent instead of co-dependent? How do I come to peace with the fact that J-O-B does not mean failure, but freedom? Will I travel in Mexico again, a land that has captured my heart? Where do I fit in?