Determined to not let things get me down this week. Actually physically shrugged my cares away. Crossing my fingers that I’ll make it.
…People were talking about writing for money. I said, Look, you can bartend, or you can teach classes, or you can write shit you don’t want to write for publications you don’t want to write for. You can be a secretary, or a hooker, or a lawyer. That’s all Column A. In Column B there’s making art. There’s painting, dancing, writing poetry. In Column B there are things you don’t do for money. You don’t know why you do them at all. That can include starting a website, or sending out a daily email. Later, when you’re finished, you try to get as much money as you can. How much you sell it for is not the point. The point is, Why did you do it.
I said something like, You think you’re talking about the same thing but you’re not. You’re talking about two different things. When artists talk about money it’s like throwing boiling water from the balcony in Siberia during a cold snap. Like this. It’s like dropping a plutonium rod in a goldfish bowl.
…Someone said, Do what you love and money will follow. But we know intuitively that’s not always true. In fact, that’s usually not true. How about Do what you love often and occasionally money will follow.”
Out here it’s unbelievably humid. The heat is starting to get oppressive, and it won’t be summer until the end of the month, or thereabouts. I long for water, the clear sky.
Good night, M.