Wednesday, June 8, 2011

I'm No Robot And I Don't Dance

There's one thing I never want to happen to me: I never want to be one of those people who just zones out and goes through the motions of having a life.

I think being a writer and an artist ought to automatically exclude me from that, but it doesn't. I was driving to work the other day, and saw an ex randomly pull behind me in a turn lane at a red light. I recognized the car before I recognized the driver, and though the are several other people who drive the very same car in the area, her's has a certain tone to it.

There's no reason she shouldn't have recognized my car, especially since the rear end has been the same (minus a few scratches and dents) since before we started dating. But she didn't. She pulled behind me, and probably barely even saw the car. I could tell she was running on automatic, only paying enough attention to the other vehicles on the road to not run into them.

She claims to be an artist too, though she excels in an area she doesn't like putting effort into, and is barely mediocre in an area she wants to excel in. Living proof that too many artists are vain and undisciplined, and that they are not excluded from turning to robots in the daily grind.

As I am among the many who does not make enough money to live off of my art (I've made $2 in the past six months, and spent much more in time and effort) I do not have the luxury of my art being my daily grind. It is a constant struggle to not let it take over and drown me in it.