(no subject)
So what has been going on in my skull?
It seems a simple question, but I'm not sure I really know anymore.
Since about April of last year, I've changed drastically. My life, my means of survival, my entire world has changed drastically, and it's happened fast. The problem is that I don't seem to have been paying enough attention along the way. I'm not exactly sure who I am anymore. I catch myself doing and saying things I'd never have in the summer of 2006. Trouble is with that is, I don't really remember who I was in the summer of 2006.
Now, I know what I was doing - working for Bethel, and dating SK - or was I still a 180-day off-in-the-summer employee and doing sweet fuck-all the majority of the time? That illustrates the problem: pretty much the entire time I was employed there is one condensed blur of ...bleh. I remember very clearly what I did, who else was there and all of the other pertinent details - including, to my chagrin, still a great deal of very detailed technical information about places in buildings I hadn't seen for years before I quit. But insofar as when these things happened in relation to the rest of my life and what was going on? I have no clue.
That's sort of the deal - this head of mine seems to be capable of quite a lot, but it often seems to do it all on it's own. Time spent living on Maui has given me much better control of what's going on between my ears. Life and survival are ...hectic being a professional artist anywhere, let alone someplace expensive (which can be said of any "decent" city). It's balancing a shit-tonne of spinning plates on the ends of sticks - and that doesn't even count trying to focus on sharpening up my glassblowing skills (which is, quite literally, trying to balance a bunch of hot, viscous goo on the ends of sticks).
I think a lot of it stems from losing that great security blanket I'd had being on the Gov't dole. The most I could have ever conceivably been broke was 31 days. There was always another paycheck on the way, and a month to figure out what to do with it.
Now? Those numbers on the account balance aren't getting any bigger on their own anymore. Fuck.
Je ne regrette rien.
Knowing then what I know now (that most pointless of hypothetical exercises), I'd have been on that island a year sooner with way more cash in pocket. Even counting that, I still think I'm doing the best I can with what I've got - and it looks to be working. Ask me again in about mid-winter, once the last huge chunk of taxpayer cash [haha, suckers] starts to feel a little more finite.
Still.
I'm going back to Maui, with a decent cruiser, a place to live, money to live, and a plan that will have me see an increase in incoming funds.
Then why am I worried? Because of the lack of that familiar security? Because the future, while promising, is entirely unknown?
Yeah, that.
It seems a simple question, but I'm not sure I really know anymore.
Since about April of last year, I've changed drastically. My life, my means of survival, my entire world has changed drastically, and it's happened fast. The problem is that I don't seem to have been paying enough attention along the way. I'm not exactly sure who I am anymore. I catch myself doing and saying things I'd never have in the summer of 2006. Trouble is with that is, I don't really remember who I was in the summer of 2006.
Now, I know what I was doing - working for Bethel, and dating SK - or was I still a 180-day off-in-the-summer employee and doing sweet fuck-all the majority of the time? That illustrates the problem: pretty much the entire time I was employed there is one condensed blur of ...bleh. I remember very clearly what I did, who else was there and all of the other pertinent details - including, to my chagrin, still a great deal of very detailed technical information about places in buildings I hadn't seen for years before I quit. But insofar as when these things happened in relation to the rest of my life and what was going on? I have no clue.
That's sort of the deal - this head of mine seems to be capable of quite a lot, but it often seems to do it all on it's own. Time spent living on Maui has given me much better control of what's going on between my ears. Life and survival are ...hectic being a professional artist anywhere, let alone someplace expensive (which can be said of any "decent" city). It's balancing a shit-tonne of spinning plates on the ends of sticks - and that doesn't even count trying to focus on sharpening up my glassblowing skills (which is, quite literally, trying to balance a bunch of hot, viscous goo on the ends of sticks).
I think a lot of it stems from losing that great security blanket I'd had being on the Gov't dole. The most I could have ever conceivably been broke was 31 days. There was always another paycheck on the way, and a month to figure out what to do with it.
Now? Those numbers on the account balance aren't getting any bigger on their own anymore. Fuck.
Je ne regrette rien.
Knowing then what I know now (that most pointless of hypothetical exercises), I'd have been on that island a year sooner with way more cash in pocket. Even counting that, I still think I'm doing the best I can with what I've got - and it looks to be working. Ask me again in about mid-winter, once the last huge chunk of taxpayer cash [haha, suckers] starts to feel a little more finite.
Still.
I'm going back to Maui, with a decent cruiser, a place to live, money to live, and a plan that will have me see an increase in incoming funds.
Then why am I worried? Because of the lack of that familiar security? Because the future, while promising, is entirely unknown?
Yeah, that.