WHERE ARE YOU
Same place I've always been.
Well, not entirely --- I'm about forty miles away from where I used to be. Metaphorically, I'm still working the same routine: I fix computers, I go home. The difference now is I still haven't found a decent liquor place at which to obtain beer, and I'm sleeping better because my commute is a half hour shorter than before.
Small steps.
Routine is a strange thing. Dull as life was, there was a certain comfort in being able to plan my week with three bullets:
Comfort, however, it a terrible thing for someone looking to change careers. It's also tough to deny the marketability and financial stability of a tech monkey --- I could be drawing, I could be publishing, I could be printing. Why would I do any of those if I'm making decent money doing something that is fairly easy and only mildly annoying?
"Because it's not what you want," you say. And you're right. It's not entirely what I want. Ask me how many entry-level jobs are available for an aspiring pen-pusher in New Jersey.
That's right. I have no idea, because when I looked around two weeks ago there were three. As I recall, one didn't involve drawing, one was only about selling other people's drawings, and the last not only lacked drawing, but revolved entirely around telling other people in another country what to draw.
In all three instances, I would not touch a pencil. I would not touch a pen. I wouldn't touch a Wacom tablet, I wouldn't touch Illustrator or Photoshop --- which makes sense since they are software and have no physical manifestation to touch, save their packaging which would only be held while transferring the software to someone else entirely.
And that's where things stand. I lack opportunity and I lack connections. There isn't a door to put my foot in, and I'm strangely okay with it.
For now, at least.
Well, not entirely --- I'm about forty miles away from where I used to be. Metaphorically, I'm still working the same routine: I fix computers, I go home. The difference now is I still haven't found a decent liquor place at which to obtain beer, and I'm sleeping better because my commute is a half hour shorter than before.
Small steps.
Routine is a strange thing. Dull as life was, there was a certain comfort in being able to plan my week with three bullets:
- Work x5.
- Sleep in, play video game.
- Laundry.
Comfort, however, it a terrible thing for someone looking to change careers. It's also tough to deny the marketability and financial stability of a tech monkey --- I could be drawing, I could be publishing, I could be printing. Why would I do any of those if I'm making decent money doing something that is fairly easy and only mildly annoying?
"Because it's not what you want," you say. And you're right. It's not entirely what I want. Ask me how many entry-level jobs are available for an aspiring pen-pusher in New Jersey.
That's right. I have no idea, because when I looked around two weeks ago there were three. As I recall, one didn't involve drawing, one was only about selling other people's drawings, and the last not only lacked drawing, but revolved entirely around telling other people in another country what to draw.
In all three instances, I would not touch a pencil. I would not touch a pen. I wouldn't touch a Wacom tablet, I wouldn't touch Illustrator or Photoshop --- which makes sense since they are software and have no physical manifestation to touch, save their packaging which would only be held while transferring the software to someone else entirely.
And that's where things stand. I lack opportunity and I lack connections. There isn't a door to put my foot in, and I'm strangely okay with it.
For now, at least.
Labels: new direction
posted by ryorininseven at 5:25 PM
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