remembers only

Can I borrow twenty bucks? I’m an artist.

I’ve asked this more times in my life than I enjoy admitting. Without money we can’t exist, but without art we can’t live. I’ve found it often, hard to fuse the two.

It’s incredibly frustrating to grow up having found yourself, and your identity as an artist, but then to also live with that insufferably implied disclaimer: yes, we’re broke. It’s a tough juxtaposition to be poor, yet feel so enriched. Our spirits are up, but our heads are down.

What fulfills me in my life has always been in the arts, whether experiencing it or making it, and my true passion is in creating. I’ve always felt that the best way to get close to the creator is to create. It began with drawing as a child and evolved into painting in High School. That delightfully continued on into adulthood, along with writing and poetry and, spawning on, into making music and collage and performance and everything that makes us feel good and rich and alive. As far as our souls are concerned, we are wealthy. Unfortunately, this is not valid currency, for example, to the Landlords of Brooklyn.

Does money equal quality of life? It doesn’t for maybe some living happily off the side of a mountain, but for most of us, yes, it does. It enables us with ability. You wouldn’t have to decline the invitation to a night out of inspiring conversation and the ultimate magic of where the night might take you, because you can’t afford the bill. You wouldn’t miss out on any of the potential wild fuel for your art and your life, because asking to establish a tab is not only embarrassing, but uncouth.

I often find myself fantasizing about growing up differently, but you can’t move around your heritage. Daydreams or not, you can only try and reconcile art and money with moving forward. It’s not only okay to ask for help, but advisable. I wish that I had the wherewithal to ask earlier. Search and Ask.

I think that those who follow me are interested in my art or what I have to say as an artist. With visuals, and writing, and music, I have something to contribute, but sometimes the reach seems far. I can make the work; that’s what we do, but after that how can we spread it out into a legitimate business? It’s not really our department. We could use an assist.

I enjoyed my time coming of age and overall experiences experimenting and learning. My youth was rich. Whether it was running off to the museum to see traveling works, or loitering endlessly in Tower Records to absorb all of the magazine articles and new music that I couldn’t afford, or spending time at the cafe, writing, on just enough coffee change that I’d scrounged from under the backseat, I made it work and it was worth it.

Especially on the heels of this pandemic, it’s been a time of searching. How can I better share my passion and what brings me endless joy, with others? We artists want to spread our messages out there like warm butter on the crispy toast of the world. We’d also like to pay our rent and not struggle for that ever-important cup of coffee.

I have to think forward only, and figure it out for the future. Sometimes you have to ask for help. Nowadays, I would never ask to borrow twenty dollars. I’d ask for help, to make twenty million. It’s nice to know that such help is out there. You just have to Search and Ask.