celebrating unemployment

Waking up at the crack of dawn, getting up, getting out, getting to work.
Still only putting on shoes till 3pm.
Going to bed late.
Working out, talking on the phone... 3 hour text message conversations with really just anyone.
Random thoughts.
Visiting old freinds, shooting the shit, listening to the gears of the world turn.
Finally getting time to work on that "fashion line" or my uh... "music career"Hehe ;)Life is good, life is good.

When your an artist your rarely "really" working...
But you never really stop.
Which is harder work? Putting in 9-7 in an air conditioned office... Or putting 100 miles on your car on a record hot Phoenix day, in a city only 60 something miles across... just gathering resources.
And then getting back to the studio, and "really" getting to work.
Is it so much harder to punch a clock, work over time on a daily basis, knowing your base and overtime is coming at the end of the week?
As an artist... you dont get paid for every hour you work.

Late nights drawing, painting, planning, formulating... hustling.
Early mornings, trying to beat the heat, with a two-page list in your pocket, trying not to forget anything and still remember to eat at some point in the day.
Getting happy everytime the phone rings- not because it is some girl you met, but because it might be a lead.
Happier when you dont recognize the number.
Doing the budget. (One of my own favorite parts... lol)
Love-making-turned-impromptu-sketching sessions... haunt your love life...
Poems/plans/dreams/ramblings take over your converstaions...
Empassioned arguments, raving debates with the concerned and aloof; loved ones and strangers, over achievement, purpose, cause, effect, become song/poem/artists statement...

You canabalize yourself. To produce "yourself"
You sell yourself.

I Got canned from the shop I was working at because of "creative differences." As in, I wouldnt let the other apprentice tattoo me.Probably not the best environment for me.
I dont, and havent, made snap decisions about tattoos- not mine or anyone elses.A good lesson on sticking to your guns :)
It costs ya, but it feels good.

I remembering times when I would stress about just such a situation...
I have not, not had a job since I was 12 years old.
Right now I am nestling secure in the fact that right now, I am really...just...
Not.


At times like these I think about my first time going to Brazil. $300.00 cash, a pair of suitcases, and a plane ticket home for 12 months later.
I think about my mentor, going from Salvador to Germany with $30.00 US a tattoo machine, a little practice, and a winning smile.
Heck, at least I spoke the language at an operating, if basic level...

I also think about bankruptcy...
It would be so easy to sleep and to eat, and even to play, if I was not still paying inflated dividends on money I havent spent in 6 years.
All of my earlier ... Business investments, personal investments;
Equipment, supplies, education, books....

But then I think about morals...
I owe this pennance to those that put me where I am.
I owe it to myself.
This is the life I chose, the life I invested myself in.
It may be too early to pay it all back... But it is way too early- and too late to call it quits;)
Besides... I am just beginning to reap the rewards.
(? ? ? lol ;)


And I think about where I am now.
This is what it has cost me to place myself in the secure place that I am now...
I have been "secure" before... Secure in the sense our society has conditioned us to think...
A girlfreind, a dope apartment, a salary, insurance, benefits, bonuses...
But the thing that always bugged me about that is, how secure is it realy??
This world is rife with chaos... Flood, famine, fire... Plague and pestilence.
We are at war right now! What makes us so untouchable?
There could be war, a strike, an emergency... The economy could crash.
The sobering thing is... we are. It wont. And if it did, We would probably be fine. Knock on wood.)
But still, you could wake up one morning and realize your sick of it.
You could hate it.

Now, a little bit of cash in you pocket, a pair of good eyes, two good hands, and a damn good head.
A "mina de ouro na mao" as they say in Brazil.
Its a different kind of security.
Waking up each morning, knowing your going to work your ass off, but knowing your going to love it. Not knowing if your going to make it...
but still, knowing your going to love it.

That is security.
I think I like it.

Abundance!
-T.S.