Walk On Podcast Episode 46 : Life Lessons of a Struggling Artist
photo by Heath Antonio
I have been a lifelong struggling artist. By this I mean, I have always been poor and fat and (even if for a long time I was DEEP in the closet) queer. I have always been autistic and a victim/survivor of abuse. I have always been socially anxious and at times what my peers and caretakers called “ugly” lol. All of these things were sold to me as reasons why being a professional musician was out of my reach. I tried it anyway.
I taught myself piano when I was 8, I started writing music when I was 10. I started writing, directing, choreographing, and composing the music for shows my friends were forced to perform ( I was a little… bossy) around that time. My whole life I have taken dance classes when I could afford them, written obsessively, I have so much original music in the vault of my brain I’ve lost count of how pieces many there are… I have written books, I have outlined screenplays, I have performed in operas and skits and been in a number of bands, I have released albums, I have toured the country as a burlesque performer (Strippin’ My Way Across The USA!!). And yet, still, I am rarely paid for my art. Still, yet, I have not “made it”.
Sure, there have been deep moments of doubt and frustration. Sure, my “limitations” have occasionally gotten in the way. And, yes, I have failed and failed and failed again. But what I have learned is that the drive and ambition of capitalist values only interfere with my creative process. I have decided to live in my integrity as a spiritual anarchist, and release any expectations or desires for fame. I have chosen the path of not stepping on others in order to succeed, though I have been stepped on. I have fallen deeply in love with my art, as it is my purest connection to the Universe. It flows. In moments where I am praying, crying, begging to be good at literally anything else, it flows. I cannot stop it. I cannot contain it, it is not mine. I pour it out, like a fountain, for anyone who might embrace it. I jimmy a life together. It’s not much, but its mine.
It is a spiritual principle that moments of contrast often teach us more than moments of comfort--in my 16 or so years of professional struggling artist-dom, I have learned A LOT. It isn't all about "making it", sometimes the beauty really is in the journey. Listen here.
