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Monday, July 14th, 2003
11:28a - Working my ass off; accomplishing NOTHING
It's not the work itself. I mean, technically this is a sweet job. I just sit and make sure the theater gets opened and closed so the people can do their thing. I've got to make sure all the doors are locked at night, and sure, if I didn't and the 40k piano got stolen my boss would have my assmeats, barbecue-style. But otherwise I'm mostly on the computer all day, or I try to get some schoolwork done, or I walk outside. Every now and then there's something that needs my attention and it's usually an emergency, but those don't happen much.

So why am I so irritated about being here so much?

Probably because there are other things I could be doing. Chores at home that need my attention. No matter how good my intentions, I never ACTUALLY get any schoolwork done at work. Or I could be working out, which I'm doing lately.

I'm getting paid, but I have no idea how much because it's entirely up to J. And I need money fast, so I hope he pays me tomorrow like he said he would.

In other news, I'm frustrated by the sheer amount of art and creativity in my head that gets utterly wasted. So many projects I dream of doing, many of which I'll never start, let alone finish. I would like to be an artist. I really could be, I think. Not the drawing or painting type, more the photo or sculpting type. Yeah. I'd really like to sculpt.

But it requires doing physical things in the physical world to make physical objects, and the mental side of it comes much more naturally to me. I think I'm afraid of the process. I've heard so often about the mind-numbing despair which comes with being an artist, seeing the perfect visions in the head transformed into imperfect, flawed mere objects of the physical, that I've come to believe it's more than pretty poetry to uphold the tortured artist mystique. I can't believe in that. Every artist I've talked to who's actually successful has a different story to tell. That art is a process-- a mysterious process, granted, but no more mysterious than architecture, or medicine, or anything else you could think of spending your whole life doing.

Fuck it. Jump.

*splash!*

Oh, and speaking of making things a reality, my cafepress site got linked here, on a website I've liked since the beginning of this androgyny thing. I appreciate the attention and that Stephe likes my designs. A few more should be up in the next week or so, and I may make separate shops for each design so I can have more than one of each item, but that will take longer.


current mood: frustrated
current music: banging of union workers putting a set together

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