Why Your Career As an Artist Should Be on Lamictal, Too

I keep working.

There’s no paycheck at the end of this. I don’t know how I’m going to buy a plane ticket to LA to go to the festival, let alone pay June’s rent. But I am investing in the next uncertain step even if it means obsessive thinking wakes me up at 3am each morning.

I have learned that there is no such thing as luck. There is no such thing as being in the right place at the right time. No one is going to seek you out and tell you they will fund your next project, mentor you, be the parent you never had. And even when they tell you what you want to hear, they have other things to do.

You don’t deserve.

For those of you who struggle with your future as an artist, realize now that it will always be a roller coaster. You have made a decision to take the plunge into a bi-polar career. And in that decision, thankfully, you prove that you are a daydreamer, an optimist, a visionary. You are willing to panic alongside failure and celebrate with success. Somehow, you pull hope out of the depths and spread it out, trying to piece together the next terrifying step.

You are necessary.

But with the decision to create, you have to work hard. You can’t blame the world for not giving you enough attention. You can’t complain about the industry. And please, for my sake, don’t say you are doing anything cutting edge that will change the face of all things art. Don’t say no one has done what you’ve done. Because someone has, they just didn’t talk about it as much.

Your brilliance is not brilliance. It’s simply light.

You are not a genius. You are your imagination.

You are enough.

Maybe no one will notice your work. Maybe the things you need and want in your life will change. Maybe this drudgery will end in nothing but remnants of a memory you can’t quite place.

Either way and whatever you decide to do, you will always be artists. Embrace that, be humble, be honest, be diligent and know that you are not alone even if you prefer it that way.