I am 32 and I do not have my shit together.
Jessica Semaan

To be an artist these days is an act of heroism…bring it on sister…or brother! A good day is seeing fresh paint on the canvas that looks good. On those nights I sleep well. Never mind all the aches and pains and anguish that preceded that. Nevermind all those self-torturing words about being a non-contributor out in the workforce.(If that was the case how to do you choose between the viable and non-viable artists out there? Van Gogh was seen as a complete idiot!)

I worked in many ‘other’ jobs, and always there was this deadening horror of KNOWING I am utterly wasting my time. I am only speaking for myself here - every artist finds their own way of surviving, thriving in a way that suits themselves best. My preference is to live frugally, and paint more. That has it’s own sacrifices — living frugally puts the cramps on socialising, travelling etc, but enforces it’s own creativity. Cooking from scratch, groovy op-shopping, gardening, market stall holding etc.

What would the world be without artists?

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.