#but the inverse is hardly ever said about artists which is interesting. but then here it is.

[camcorderrevival]

zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance, robert m. pirsig, 1974

[dpargyle]

Winter of My Discontents

Alright, moving on –

So this is the first day of shit weather this year where I live.  It’s weird – growing up in New York I remember the seasons – but here we only have two – winter and construction.  It goes from 80 to 40 (F) in about a week – so yesterday was 75 and sunny and I could read outside and actually talk to people and today it’s 59 and rainy and cloudy and I just wanna set everything on fire.

I fucking hate it.

Kids – I fucking hate winter.  It glooms over you – and everything goes from bright and outside to monochrome and “fuck you.”  My wheelchair can’t go over the snow and it snows here from like the beginning of November to the middle of April and all of those months here I loathe.  Summer’s ok here but you’re still surrounded by religious lunatics.  

Nobody plows their fucking sidewalk in winter so I have to literally risk my life by driving my wheelchair in the middle of roads with cars in order to cross my own godsdamn street just to get food and now this year

my Dad wants me to come into the office three times a week.  

(So – to explain my work situation – OK – so technically I’m unemployed – and that’s cuz of the stupid fucking government who says like “oh you’re making above this much money as a person in a wheelchair?  Well in that case Medicaid isn’t gonna pay for your attendants to help you get up in the morning and go to bed at night (I’d need to make, like, 25k or so a year to afford that basically)” and also if you save literally one dollar more than $2,000 at one time on all your bank accounts combined we’ll also cut your Medicaid funding for the attendants and very expensive medical equipment (my chair costs 36k every 5 years) as well!” so I’m very much hamstrung by bureaucratic bullshit) –

so in order to get around all this nonsense – I (with the help of my family) am officially unemployed but I live in an apartment that’s technically rented by my Dad’s company – and in return I write and edit (and have been for like 6 years now) an e-magazine about the 3D Printing Industry (I don’t put my name on it though because again, government…) – which is kinda interesting and has allowed me to do both that and focus on my creative work as well – and I also do some freelance writing and one time an artistic thing for the company as well – (that money gets funneled to a bank account the government doesn’t know about) but mostly I’m glad I’ve had these jobs but they’re not…I don’t get excited about them.  I know other people might, but – I’m not one of them hahaha.  I really want to work creatively, but you know…)

In any case, while my Dad does run the main company as CEO he didn’t hire me – it wasn’t his idea – the owner of the company (who has lots of $$$) – after a year of me searching for jobs after college (very unsuccessfully) called me up one day and was like “you’re doing this for us now” and I needed to move out of my folks’ house ASAP so I was like “OK” –

But now my Dad wants me to come in to the office on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays – and I totally understand his reasoning (he’s trying to help me out) – he thinks that if I’m in the office other people there will involve me more in freelance-type work and I’ll be able to earn more $ - and this is probably true – and he also wants me to “get out of your warren” – cuz he knows my brother was basically the only person I interacted with socially in this entire city on any regular basis and now that he’s gone, well….

So my Dad seems to think being social with the other workers or something will be good for me? I mean maybe he’s right but I know everyone in there and they’re all super old and while they’re very nice I don’t have much in common with them and even if I did it’s still super awkward cuz I’m the boss’s son and it’s just awkward – I mean this is part of the reason why my brother left anyway – he worked there for three years but after those three years he was ready to not work at his Dad’s company anymore – and plus he and his wife fuckin hated Utah anyway and I don’t blame them at all I mostly hate it too haahahaha (cries)…

Though if I’m being honest anywhere I’d live I’d probably find all the flaws in real quick…

But maybe somewhere like California where actual things happen and I don’t have to fucking war against winter every year…

Cuz like I’ve tried the work many days a week with a commute in this city – and in summer it’s ok – there’s a very good tram-line system and I’m close to a station (for this purpose) – but in winter…

So for the first year I lived in Salt Lake I was working the magazine job and I was also working at the local Apple Store as well and that winter I literally nearly died commuting cuz I was super tired all the time (my fatigue tolerance level is super low) and dealing with customers and then doing the magazine job and then I was trying to write a book in my free time (it was the first one I wrote and it was complete shit but I’m proud of it cuz it was the first thing I’d ever finished) but I was basically operating at only 15% power and then one night I was on the train platform and there was ice and I slipped off it and half my wheelchair and I fell into the gap between the platform and the train and if that train operator hadn’t seen me he would’ve pulled out of the station and I woulda been warm meat paste…

(I nearly die at least six times a year…)

And that was the night I decided I’d quit that Apple job cuz no job is worth that hellish commute.

Even in subtler ways, though the winter is a killer for me here – there are days when the weather or the pressure changes and my right shoulder (the arm I drive my power wheelchair with) is in so much agony I can hardly move at all – and this lasts 2 or 3 days sometimes 4 –

and then they have these frikken godsforsaken mines here and we’re in this bowl-shaped valley so they mine all this dust into the air and so there’s this inversion here in winter and you can literally visibly see the dust in the air and your throat burns for like four months straight and it’s like the fuckin dust bowl or something god I hate unregulated red states…

And to top it all off, when I travel a lot in the cold my feet rub against my shoes which happened when I commuted to the apple store and by the end of that year I had sores on my heels that took 6 months to heal and in that time one of my best friends from high school died and I couldn’t travel to his funeral because I couldn’t even get out of my door and….I hated myself for that – I’d let him down (again.)

To be honest with you – when I first got offered that job at Apple I was so proud and happy and excited – I’d been looking for a job for a year after college and I looked everywhere – all over the world – in every industry I could think of – and there was just nothing.  Nobody even offered me an interview before they did – and I have self-esteem issues anyway so I started thinking – like – is it cuz I’m in a wheelchair?  Is that why nobody wants me?  (I really have issues dealing with any kind of rejection because of this…)

But then Apple came along and said “Yes!”  And I was like OMG this is amazing – I’m doing retail but it’s gonna be in an interesting (kind of) industry and I’m gonna work with young peeps like me and I’m gonna do creative stuff in my free time and slowly work my way up the ladder and I’m still young I got tons of time to do everything and be everywhere I wanna be going…and then the month before I had the job orientation with Apple my old high school friend had the sudden accident which would lead to his passing a few months later – and….nothing mattered like it had anymore…

He was hovering between life and death all the way in New York and I was in Utah doing…what? Selling expensive crap to rich Mormons? Nothing made sense anymore.  For six years before that point I’d been an insufferable evangelical Christian zealot – and although for two years my faith had been wavering due to me beginning to question its draconian teachings – at that point I still had it – but then this happened and very quickly what little faith I’d been holding onto died with my friend.  

I’m glad I’ve grown in my empathy and inclusiveness since then – but on the other hand, I feel I’ve lost something…

And then a month after my friend’s accident I had to present myself to Apple and be an enthusiastic team player filled with evangelism for the products and I just…I couldn’t do it…I remember that week so vividly too cuz that was the week George Lucas sold Lucasfilm to Disney and they announced they were doing MORE STAR WARS and I was like holy fuck that’s what I wanna do – maybe not necessarily Star Wars (though !!!) – but telling stories and weaving myths – and making a thing that MATTERED to people – that moved them and shook them and changed them and nourished them and gave them some godsdamned fucking hope in this unjust world…

But I was stuck here in Utah…

So I started writing that book and I pushed myself so incredibly hard cuz literally by that point it was the only thing that mattered to me and made sense – feeling like I’d been put on this Earth to make art and I wasn’t gonna waste anymore time because maybe I didn’t have anymore time, you know?

And like I couldn’t connect with my coworkers – they were my age but many of them were Mormons with whole families they were supporting and most of the rest (save for my good friend @soundscomplicated) – I just…it was hard to connect to.  In college I’d been surrounded by interesting people who challenged my brain and soul parts (at least sometimes – though academia drove me nuts) …but now….now I was stuck in the wasteland with no way out…

I finished the book and it was crap but at least I’d done something.  Then I made that personal safety decision to quit Apple and for the last four years I’ve been working from home…

And this past year or so I finally began to put it all together again maybe – my drawing skills were improving – I was writing another book that scared the crap outta me (but that was a good thing) – about a group of nerds who lost someone close to them and whose worlds were turned upside down as a result – where the protagonist was a kid in a wheelchair like me and for the first time I felt like I was writing something IMPORTANT that MATTERED that might move people – letting out all my pain and hope and regret and love -

But then I sent it out to potential agents and waited and waited and waited for months and months and literally none of them even sent me a solid rejection.  It was all just nothingness into the void.  I understand they get so many submissions though so I tried not to take it personally –

And I decided this story and these words that I’d finished were important enough for me to publish on Amazon – so I did – and it was one of the proudest moments of my life (this was back in April or so) but then – nobody bought it.  And it’s not like I expected to make out like gangbusters – I don’t know anything about marketing or being social media savvy (I mean just witness the godsdamned length of this friggen post hahaha) – but I thought at least everyone in my extended family would buy it – but nope. It sold like 11 copies.  Let’s just say I will love those 11 people forever but I just…

Like I’d killed myself over this fucking book.  I went down into the deepest parts of my soul and ripped them out for all the world to see – I didn’t do anything but this book.  I did my paying work for the company but hanging out with people other than my brother sometimes?  I didn’t have time.  I didn’t have the energy.

In the flesh connections are so hard and when you’re working on something you truly believe in – well – you feel compelled to WORK WORK WORK and where was I gonna meet people here anyway?  

This story mattered more than my own happiness.

And now that it hasn’t done well?  What was it all for?  Really? It’s not that I’m not totally effing proud of what came out – I am – probably more than any other art I’ve ever made – but…I dunno I guess I just have delusions of grandeur for myself…sometimes I feel like if I’m not Shakespeare – if I can’t support myself with my art – I’m a failure.  

I’ve failed.  My life has been a waste!

And then I sit back and I try to remind myself that’s an incredibly toxic and terrible way of thinking but at this point I literally can’t help it…

I don’t know what to work on next creatively.  And now I’m having to spend more time away from my creative stuff and I don’t want to – I really don’t give a shit about the meager extra money I’m gonna get by going into the office – I want those hours I’m gonna waste there back!  I don’t want to spend more hours not doing what I was born on this earth to do.

That probably sounds super privileged of me and I’m lucky to be where I am and blah blah blah but I just……and when the winter really comes and there’s snow on the ground I literally will not be able to go to the office (or even leave my apartment easily for that matter) and my Dad understands that – but I just…

Maybe I just don’t want to do that stuff anymore?  I’m probably coming across as a super lazy and ungrateful person – and I am, but…

I just don’t have many friends here anyway and spending energy on commuting is just not gonna help that at all and I see no way out and I’m literally crying as I type this and I want OUT OUT OUT so bad but I don’t know what that means or what that looks like and I am cold and scared and lonely and tired and

For the past month it’s been warm and sunny and I’ve had Blondie to distract me from all this pain and mounting mediocrity and it’s been nice cuz I haven’t really had a crush in the flesh since college – like literally the last girl I allowed myself to fall for is now married with two kids hahaha and that night I got my head stuck in the fridge and I didn’t say this in the original post but

I was literally kind of sobbing because my brother was leaving (he’s gone now) and I don’t have many good friends (especially here) and my book I cared so much about fucking crashed and burned and I put my fucking soul into that thing and it wasn’t good enough I’M NEVER GOOD ENOUGH and then my chair crapped out and I was about to die and I cried for like an hour (I haven’t cried like that in like seven years – since before my friend died) but then I stopped crying cuz Leia’s Theme came on my shuffle and it gave me some hope so instead of crying I was yelling and then somebody busted open my front door

And she was literally an angel and just sweet and all my everything just washed away and everything was OK but now – it’s just – that distraction is fading away and I am facing my reality and…

As with every winter here, I am growing restless…