It's funny that 2 of the stereotypes of San Francisco are extremely high rent, and the inability to pay rent. I currently reside in the awkwardly shaped and uncomfortably cramped part of that venn diagram . Usually I have the confidence that "I'll figure it out no matter what" - I'm no stranger to canned-tuna poverty or being stranded in another country. But I won't lie this time I don't feel the drive to do whatever it takes. Seems like it was that mentality that got me into the job that wasn't right for me in the first place. What's the point of taking whatever arises amidst my desperation if it won't pay my bills or get me anywhere in my journey around the monopoly board? Or maybe I should have gone with Life as my pseudo reality in childhood game format.
Anyway. This month I'm pimping art. Not in any formal way, I'm sure my parents will be my primary customer base along with a few of my ever devoted friends. But at least I won't feel like I'm selling out - neither being a mid twenties nowhere-to-go townie living at home (not that there's anything wrong with that mom - you're great and feel free to cook for me anytime) nor taking another job working for a camel-toed troll. Yeah, picture that.
Is there a middle ground? Is it possible to find yourself or a passion that pays under the pressure of eviction? Stay tuned, T minus 30 days to find out.
In the meantime, peep my flickr and let me know if you can't live without one of my photos on your wall!
I can also be commissioned for art - but keep in mind I'm a bit amateur.
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