I haven't written anything on here in a while.
It's not because I haven't had anything to say . . . far from it.
I've had a lot to say.
Problem is, every time I look at my blog and think about updating it, my eyes scrape painfully against the grating visual design and I just weep. That, and I keep having doubts about the whole "online journal" thing I set out to make this thing into.
But I got an anecdote from this week too interesting to pass up.
It actually starts several weeks ago, with the re-insurgence of my artistic vigor. I had completed a new digital picture using Corel Painter and my wonderful drawing tablet. Normally it would have stayed at that, and I would have dropped interest again for a while, but I got the bright idea to post it online for some feedback. The feedback I got was so positive that I flooded my facebook page with old art and showed my stuff off to more people than I had ever done previously. My sister did the same thing around the same time, only she was a bit more prolific and a little less exhibitionist.
In any case, my sister and I were hanging around our parents' house this Wednesday when their home teachers came over. We joined in the conversation while my sister continued doodling on her computer. They took notice and asked about what she was doing, and we explained. Instantly, one of the home teachers asked, "You making some money off your art?"
Sis and I both shook our heads, sort of perplexed. My Dad interjected, "Yeah, that's the problem with artists; They don't believe in capitalism." I'm sure he was (at least partially) joking. I mean, it got a laugh out of the home teachers.
This comment sort of irked me a bit, so I tried to explain that I didn't like the idea of drawing for profit. What I drew was for myself, and if others liked it, bonus. If they offered money, double bonus. The thought of commercial art had certainly crossed my mind, but never appealed to me. The only way I could see myself doing that sort of thing is if I got an art degree in college and got a job to do it. The sort of stuff I do on my own just really isn't suited for sale, and I have no interest in altering it for the sake of a market.
My Dad's dismissive response? "Well, sounds like I didn't teach you guys well enough."
If you couldn't tell, Pop's a thorough, proselytizing capitalist. He gave me "Rich Dad, Poor Dad" to read in High School, and reminds me to reread it on a yearly basis. I read it once, and thought a lot of it was really tickled my greed bone. I'm not trying to say I'm an anti-capitalist, baby-eating European socialist. If I raise enough investment capital some day, I intend to put a lot of the principles the book, and my Dad, taught me to good use.
But is it a failure on my Dad's part that I don't so completely embrace capitalism in everything I do?
Does the fact that I don't constantly think "Can I make money off of this?" mean that I'm somehow an anti-capitalist?
Am I thinking about this too much and giving my Dad too much of a hard time for trying to make the home teachers laugh?
(Probably)
I'm fairly money-hungry but also probably closer to socialist than anything else. It's a real conundrum.
ReplyDeleteI can understand a grown person's aversion to parting with his/her hard-earned money, but I would also hope the intelligence it (ideally) takes to be successful would lend itself to acceptance of varying approaches to wealth. I think it's an inescapable fact that most parents want little versions of themselves, though, and are moderately disheartened when a child deviates from what they see as the wisest path.
I like money as much as anyone else, but for some reason there's a disconnect for me between what few artistic endeavors I embark on and what I associate with work that can earn me money. The twain, they just never meet.
ReplyDeleteAnd you're probably right about my Dad. Up until my mission I think I was on the path to be a mini-him, and I think he's utterly baffled with how I came out of the mission. It must be hard on him.