“Untitled” Color pencil on paper. 2017.
Lately I’ve been listening a lot to wtf, Marc Maron’s podcast. He is a master at having conversations and bringing out real honest and interesting moments with whoever he is interviewing. One thing a lot of his guests seem to have in common is that they have struggled for a long time, many of them for years and years before having their moment, getting over the hump, lifting themselves up from the gutter or just making it through whatever trouble they were in. Adversity seem to be a common theme.
As I was driving home from work last night I thought of some of the interviews I’ve listened to and I started fantasizing about being a guest on his show. (And maybe this is the kind of thing you shouldn’t tell anyone because it’s pretty embarrassing I guess, but fuck it, we all do these things. I think? You know; some people sing in the shower and pretend to be on stage, blowing the audience away with their amazing voice and presence, some people pretend to receive an award for something great they accomplished, so I think it should be safe to admit to a brief moment of daydreaming here.)
Anyway, I was playing the scenario in my head where I was sitting down in Marc’s famous garage, telling him about my life and my struggle, my mother’s suicide, my years as a musician, our move to America and the years since, where my wife and I have struggled to make ends meet. And Marc sits back and listens to me and then he asks;
“So when did things change for you, what was the moment were you knew you’d made it and that you would be ok?” And I go “Well, you know Marc, for years and years my wife and I struggled. She was really sick and I was working these low wage jobs trying to support us, which wasn’t really working out, you know, it’s really hard to get by on anything less than $20/hour these days, right? We were really struggling and things were looking worse and worse, in fact; we weren’t really sure how we were going to pay rent…and I guess it was early 2017 and things were really looking shitty for us…then, out of the blue I got an email, from this dude who owned a gallery and he had seen my art somewhere online and he wanted to represent me and from there, things just started working out until I got to the point where I was doing art for a living and making decent money on it…and that was it…”
I know it was just a stupid daydream, but for a few moments there, it felt like there was hope for a better future. I’m not dreaming about making millions of dollars, just enough so that I can pay my rent, my bills and not ever have to worry about it. Maybe go on a trip once in a while, maybe go out to eat once in a while…you know; just living a regular life without the constant stress over money.
You have to dream. Some dream big, some fantasize, some pretend. I think we all have that in common, no matter who we are, where we live, who we voted for and so on. I mean, fuck; what is life if we don’t allow ourselves to dream and pretend, right?
I don’t expect to get a call from Marc Maron anytime soon, but I will keep working at my art and hope that I never run out of joy in doing so.
Who knows, maybe there’s a future in it, maybe not. All I can do is do my best.