Intersections

It's not possible or me to sing, or even to write, today. It's Saturday. Between kids' activities, do-it-yourself house repairs and my brother coming over for dinner, taking time for busking is out of the question.

So I'm writing this, in longhand, during our daughter's drama class, when I go around the corner to the nearby Portuguese bakery for an hour. Who knows when I'll actually post this entry? It'll have to be sometime later, when I'm stealing time away from other work, and when it won't interfere with family business.

My subway singing and writing is taking up a significant amount of discretionary time. (I say this despite how quickly I'm typing, which is becoming pretty impressive.) Because both are essentially voluntary activities, leading to small amounts of income, it's hard to view them with the respect one would normally afford a "real" job. Depending on your perspective, neither busking nor blogging may merit any respect at all.

On weekends like these, I'm reminded of how incompatible an artist's life can be with the regular or respectable path: the life of nine-to-five jobs and traditional family roles. It takes an especially understanding spouse to accomodate his or her partner's intense creative periods...to support them even though they don't seem to be leading anywhere in terms of money or prestige. Competence in a creative activity may not, by itself, inspire the artist's family to support the activity--not unless the art itself is considered something that couldn't be lived without.

These days, how much art is viewed that way? Not much, unless it suddenly starts paying the bills.

My subway project has turned out to be more than I expected it to be. It's become, in a way, a vehicle to help me determine where I should be going. Where is my songwriting taking me? Where do I want to end up?

It's appropriate that I find myself at intersections.

Does one career route end in artistic fulfillment and recognition--or in loneliness, self-indulgence and poverty? Does another track (pursuing art as a hobby) lead to a stable family life and financial security, or to an avoidance of a deeper call? Which route leads to authenticity? Which to happiness?

I know. You're thinking, it doesn't have to be an "either/or". That's my belief as well, most of the time, as I continue to attempt to balance the needs of my partner, my children and myself along with my artistic goals and our financial needs. I work hard every day (and have for years), combining an array of paying jobs (mostly related to writing and teaching) with music performances (paid and unpaid), child care and the creation of new work. Although I might appear successful on the surface, I constantly find myself falling short in one or another of these areas. When I get one thing right, I trip up somewhere else: I see that something needs to be better-attended-to--my partner or my children or my bank balance or my health--and as soon as I turn in that direction I hear a voice calling me from another corner.

Some days I feel stuck at these junctions, unable to go anywhere, and I feel frightened and frustrated that I don't know which track to take. Other times, I appreciate the grace afforded me in the middle-ground, where for a brief period I am dependent on no one and no one is dependent on me.