This
Creative Life
I
remember back several years
ago finally coming to the
conclusion that, besides the
usual peace, love and happiness
thing, what I really wanted
was to be able to make my
living doing creative projects.
I didn't want it to be just
ONE thing - I wanted to spend
every day doing something
different with my creativity.
I
imagined that I would be touring
the world with my music and
doing videos on MTV while
simultaneously writing a nationally
syndicated column and also
working on an original screenplay
that was about to begin filming
while getting ready for the
release of my breakout novel
"The Search for Happiness".
Life would be grand, I'd be
artistically fulfilled and,
quite frankly, I would make
enough money to afford my
Ferrari 355.
Reality,
of course, is seldom as we
imagine it. It usually bears
only a faint resemblance to
our dreams while adding pimples
and a few extra pounds.
I
have succeeded in making my
entire living doing creative
projects. The bulk of my income
comes from touring and performing
music and I'm currently (read:
still) working on my third
album. I write this column
every two weeks (more or less)
and send it out to the several
hundred of you who care enough
to read it. I've also got
a few pet-project websites:
a collaborative island-themed
thingy at www.keylimecafe.com
and my good friend and amazing
syndicated cartoonist Lennie
Peterson's site at www.planetlennie.com.
I'm currently working on a
children's book idea with
Lennie while also trying to
shop a song Lottery to (go
figure) state Lottery ad agencies.
Meanwhile, I'm also working
with Chet Walker of www.thebestincentralflorida.com
to try and bring the Jager
Song to the Orlando area while
jotting down every screenplay
idea I get into a file of
things to write later. I'm
almost ready to get back to
writing "The Search for Happiness"
and I'm thinking of going
to get a doctorate in something
really useless just to say
I did it.
Despite
all of that, my Ferrari is
instead a purple Plymouth
Grand Voyager minivan. My
tour consists of really small
clubs in the Northeast (including
some who don't think that
a musician with dreadlocks
is appropriate for their hoity-toity
stupid little bar) and no
one seems to want to put my
face on MTV to help me sell
a few million albums. Although
this column has grown from
nothing to several hundred
people with NO publicity,
the large syndicate doesn't
think anyone would want to
read it. And children's books
and novels are both admittedly
tough markets to break into,
especially by someone whose
primary focus is still writing
music.
Reality
is that sometimes, like at
3AM on this Tuesday morning,
I wake up so stressed about
making sure that there are
enough shows coming up in
the next few weeks to cover
basic living expenses that
I wonder why it is I even
live this creative life.
I've
always operated under the
principle that if I do "good
work" (i.e. craft good songs,
write good columns) that the
financial and critical rewards
would inevitably follow. I
say this with a full understanding
that the machines that traditionally
bring you this art in a large
scale (MTV, record labels,
movie studios) have long ago
stopped looking at the artistic
merit of projects and focus
entirely on the financial
viability of the work. They
just want to know they can
sell millions, and if it happens
to be good art, well, that's
cool too.
But
I've always figured that all
good work will eventually
fall in step with mainstream
tastes and you find the market
that the big companies like.
In the meantime, I receive
a lot of acknowledgement from
important people that my work
is good, but get told that
I'm either ahead of my time
or that the trend for that
has already come and gone.
As
my friend Lennie said one
time about a year before he
FINALLY broke through and
got firmly on the road to
becoming the world-renowned
cartoonist he will be, "You
know, just ONCE I'd like to
be right on time."
Until
then, I guess I have to just
be content with the fact that,
if nothing else, I do get
to live the day to day dream
of making my living doing
creative projects. I just
wish the reality had fewer
pimples, a few less pounds
and a couple of extra dollars.
This
column © 2001 Lee Totten
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