On Living the Dream and Staying Asleep
Most of my life has been geared toward becoming a creative person and making a living doing what I love. I’ve never dreamed of owning a house, having a family of my own, etc. I’ve always felt detached from what most people consider a “normal” life. Like it wasn’t for me.
As a teen, reading biographies of artists I admired was the only way I could kinda foresee what was ahead in life, and my favorite artists at the time (François Truffaut, Stanley Kubrick, Jean Cocteau, Jack Kerouac) were the ones that had taken chances and took it upon themselves to make things happen, regardless of rules and industry standards.
At the same time, when I started making music - and later, blogging - I always waited for approval, or even permission, in one way or another. I wanted someone to sign me so I could start to promote myself. I wanted someone to book be for a tour to give me the permission to travel. I wanted someone to ask me to write something so I could start blogging.
After a while, I realized the so called gatekeepers were just people like me, trying to make things happen, and often struggling with finances and limitations.
It’s one thing to judge the calls made by an artist when you read about their lives and you already have an insight on all the great things that await them, just around the corner… It’s something else to navigate the stress and the confusion of day-to-day existence.
In the past couple years, my music career started to pick up. I’m not famous (or even popular) by any mean, but being played on radio stations meant an acceptable, albeit uncertain, stream of revenue from royalties and stuff like that. Yet, at that time, I had a moment of panic that lasted for months.
I thought I needed to find a “real” job or something. I started sending out resumes. I said to people around me I didn’t want to be “just an artist”, that it was a doomed career. I had to start thinking about the future. I told them I wanted more in life.
The truth is probably a little simpler: I was afraid of succeeding at getting what I always wanted, because once it would become true, it wouldn’t be ideal anymore. And - maybe just maybe - I was worried I wouldn’t be good enough.
I didn’t have the clarity to accept the life I had hoped for with its insecurities, its less desirable aspects and its realities.
So I went on job interviews, and, of course, no one wanted to hire me. It bummed me out at the time, but I am now thankful for that. After shedding a few crocodile tears, I went back to the drawing board and decided to make a go of it.
Today, I’m not rich, but I have enough money to carry me over for a while. I’m not living large, but this lifestyle allows me to pack my laptop and travel. It also allows me to do the only thing that matters to me: be creative. Which is a good thing since I need time to make some more music if I want those sweet royalties checks to keep coming! (I’m half joking, but also, half not).
I guess that, in order to be living the dream, you either need to be a heavy sleeper, or accept you’re going to wake up once in a while.