It's my turn. It's time. His words...my sentiments exactly. It is time - for detailed plans and statements of intent to manifest into concrete results. I would say that this phase is about forward movement, but movement doesn't seem to be a strong enough term to describe this sensation of being catapulted into an entirely new of way thinking, being, seeing, feeling. Of life.
Progression is hard work; and though I would definitely rather be busy than sitting around thinking up new thumb-up-ass configurations, I miss my free time. I-time, you know? Moments spent doing...whatever the fuck I wanted to do. Wineglass in one hand, blunt in the other -singing, daydreaming, catnapping, wondering about old loves and the like. I miss those days when I could write or visually vocalize my fantasies anytime the mood hit.
Sometimes when I'm working I'll feel that urge. Words and imagery will suddenly spout from previously undiscovered pockets in my brain and I want to grab a pen and a pad and sprawl on my bed or open Photoshop and sublimatesublimatesublimate. As I so love to do. But wait, PS is already open and I'm here...creating x amount of things that will net me x amount of dollars. *le sigh*
I suppose it's the cliched plight of the artist - to want to be recognized, praised, and recompensed for one's art. But not really wanting the art to become a product; some bit of fluff or frivolity to which financial value is applied.
Let's not be coy though. I prefer this dilemma to not having it, trust.
But still...STILL I have to vent. Just a little, about what I feel for clients that think they can do what I do. You know the ones; they can't design anything in PS or code a website because they just don't have the time, "oh I don't have the patience for stuff like that." They're the same ones that think a good graphic is a mere matter of using some popular font and the right stock photo. I want to be like, sit down dearie and I will tell you a thing or two about alignment, contrast, repetition, balance, proximity, and gotdammit sheer creative ability.
Hmph. Even though I call it such, this graphic design shit really ain't a damn game, and it damn sho ain't easy.
But whatever. Any pathway one chooses is not going to be continuously smooth. Sometimes pebbles will work their way into your shoes, jab the sole of foot so that you stumble. I accept this. And in light of that acceptance, I keep it moving.
Cause I gots somewhere to be, homie.
Posted by Lisa at January 18, 2007 10:25 PM