Art Versus Eating

I just watched a great documentary (called "My Kid Could Paint That") about a suggested art wunderkind - Marla Olmsted, the 4 year-old painter from New York. It was a good film, in that it made me think. Don't care whether or not it is true - because it had the desired effect. It was good art, in and of itself. Many of the characters are pretty tragic, and not the point here.

As a freelance seo writer, I often get asked about why I do this. Especially by folks who know me, and know how much art has driven my life. I started out playing in bands and writing comedy and fiction. So there is some internal struggle from time to time as well - why do I do this? But the reason is so simple, it almost hurts. Art is communication. This makes anything you do well, anything that connects you and your message to other people, art. So for me, I simply had to re-think what I thought it means to be an artist.

I have a lot of friends that play music. Most have day jobs, some don't. But all of them have to play, because they do. I play - piano, drums, guitar - whatever. Sometimes with others, more often without. I decided a long time ago, I like owning stuff. Having stuff, and expecting music to pay for the stuff I like made a few decisions for me. I am a realist. Fiction is tough. Writing comedy is tough. Playing music is tough. One out of a million make enough to eat. That makes for a lot of hungry folks. So I aimed my art more specifically, I discovered and subsequently targeted my product(s) at an audience always willing to buy...I got into copywriting. To me, this is easy. Give me a specific direction, I'll give you the script for success. Easy.

But I think there is a great deal of art in what I do. I am mastering the art, by hitting the mark in fewer conversations. Less revisions. Quicker flips. If I can talk to you once and deliver, you benefit from my artistic bend.

I eat well. I had sushi for lunch today, and was happy that the high price didn't matter to me. I could easily afford it. My current art affords me sushi lunches, which is cool by me. Because I want my art to pay for my life. It makes me happy and content - I find creativity as well as monetary rewards.

Some of the best artists I have ever known struggle with paying bills on time. I don't. Some of them question their paths, don't know what to expect from their futures. I don't. I buy their art. I see their shows, and drop my money in the tip jar. I go home to a nice house, and have all the stuff I need. I don't feel I want for much. Freelance copywriting has been the key to my success.

So how this ties into Marla Olmsted and the documentary, I don't know. What I do know, is that I appreciate my art. I know how to create something from nothing, or can make simple ideas more beautiful. My professional detachment allows me to not be married to anything I write for work - changing my text is part of the drill. If I don't want a comma moved or a verb switched, I have fiction to save me. My art is still there, it is still mine. But when they are paying me, and paying me well to say what is important to them (not me mind you, but a collective them), I let them change whatever they want. I offer opinions on what's best, but don't let my art get in the way of my eating. Eating costs money...and so does my time. It balances out nicely.