Friday, October 8, 2010

Starving Writer Struggle

“Artists starve for the love of Art.”
Quite literally.

My long time friend, Zeus, who's a painter and lives just ten minutes away from my home in Laguna is one of the friends I support and I believe he dreams to be a national artist in the Philippines someday, aside from that he loves to paint and has a career out of it.
Not a lot of my friends have dreams like that and I would like to help out, in whatever means I can.

To mention, not a lot of people have goals or dreams almost similar to mine or his(I'm not about to discuss my dreams but uhhh yeah I do have them). Now, I see people my age go about each day without realizing their dreams. They walk nonsensically day to day without trying to look into the vignettes of their future. No wonder there aren't a lot of people who are happy with their jobs, despite it paying better than mine. People who find it a bit challenging to get their diplomas (probably because they don't like the course they took). And halts to complete silence when asked “What's your dream/goal/plan in the future?”
It puzzles me that somehow they don't know the answer to that simple question. It's like not knowing oneself and is ignorant of one's purpose.
Zeus, pursues his dream with rackets and projects that would lead him a step further into the road of painting superstardom.

Another friend of mine who has a passion for dancing and acting, used to be a model, but a turn in her fate recently had compromised her dreams. She got knocked up and got married eventually. She told me she still wants to pursue dancing but certain obligations hold her back. We used to share a dream... no, not dancing and acting but the dream of supporting each other in pursuing our own goals, to be there in and bask in the struggles and petty achievements along the road. She was my best friend.
But we're young and I know there's still time for her to achieve her dreams and I'd still support her, nothing has changed in me.

Last Sunday I went to Zeus's house and hanged out til 2am. He was painting 3x3 feet canvas for his upcoming exhibit in Shangri-la plaza. He ranted on the amount that they were going to be paid (and honestly I could earn them in two days) saying that the exhibit don't have enough budget to accommodate what he had requested for the pay and had several issues into taking the project. He was hesitant since the offer was quite minuscule, he might as well hit himself with a huge lump of rock to the head.
“It's Shangri-la Plaza for crying out loud!” - not exactly what he said.
He has been working freelance for about 5 years and counting, he never took any job that would sway away from his career and he may not be richer now and sometimes he would go to desperate measures just to meet a deadline.

My freelance days are over. I work in an office in Diliman since I find it hard to drag myself to the computer despite it just sitting next to the bed. I needed an office in which I'd be pressured to work in.

“Dreamless people starve for the lack of Art”
Not literally.
Dreamless people aren't creative, much like a rolling ball with not much of a direction and they are everywhere. They are purposeless, thinks rhythmic greeting cards are a fine work of art, poetry-ish.
Rarely do they amount to anything but would as much as, perhaps to suck the marrows out of their parent's bank account in order to sustain their lifestyle. They have no drive, no passion to fuel their means and nothing to burn for their souls.
However most of them have resources which in turn would be a lot of help for Zeus and I. Some of them have everything, yet nothing to create with. They lack the ability to create.

That Sunday evening at Zeus' house we prepared coffee. My first coffee since I discovered I shouldn't indulge too much on it since it's quite hazardous to my health.

I know very well, pursuing a career in writing won't probably make me a millionaire. My mum told me she thought I'd be a painter or illustrator someday and my english teacher back in high-school wrote at the back of my notebook “You will be a writer someday.”
It probably won't feed me and my future partner. We would starve perhaps?
I would still write despite the empty stomach the same as my friend would paint despite the lack of sleep.
I'm taking a step on the road of my writing career. I know it's going to be hard and I'm only taking a few steps... yet my stomach is already grumbling.

What's your dream?

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