Tuesday, December 7, 2010

For Under Covered Krinkles

I will not be Tweeting about this. I will not Facebook it. This post is not about gaining attention or about whining. This is about fear. Fear of failure. Fear of succeeding. Fear of acceptance. Fear, why in God’s name was fear an emotion God would program us with.


What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck was I thinking. I am a 41 year old unemployed wanna-be photographer. Can you believe that I actually wished, no prayed to be unemployed. I was so fucking unhappy at my day job that I thought being unemployed would actually be a better place to be than keeping a hold of $70k a year job. I have been unemployed now for over nearly two months and still have not been successful at booking a single paying gig? Hence my belief that I am a wanna-be photographer. It isn’t that I lack the skill or understanding of photography principals. I have a great understanding of the technical side. Don’t get me wrong, I still have a lot to learn, but I have a better than average understanding. I cannot seem to figure that out.

I had a paying job booked for today, but this morning I was left a voicemail that she and her son were sick all night and would have to reschedule. While I wish them the absolutely the best possible recovery and all the love in the world because they are simply the most beautiful and kind individuals, this got me thinking; What if putting food on the table right now depended on this job? What if rent was due and this job didn’t pay it? What if the safety and security I am supposed to provide to my wife was on the line and this job was a make or break moment? What if? What if is about to become today real soon.

What if I can’t do this and be successful? Well, let me start by defining success. Success would mean that my wife and I would have at least the existing roof over our head. Success means that I would not have to punch a clock five days a week or more to collect a paycheck. Success means paying all of our bills and not living payday to payday to payday. Success means being happy and having fun doing what I love.

Here is the funny thing; I thought this would be a cake walk. Not easy, as it would take a lot of work, but a cakewalk. I can deliver a quality product at a reasonable price, that combined with the hard work would make success a cake walk. Tada… My own illusion is a farce. When I was planning my departure from my day job, I actually thought that I would spend all day every day producing art and building a business. The reality has been, surprisingly, an absolute failure. I spend maybe two hours a day building my business and less than that amount of time per week creating art. What the fuck do I do all day? What the fuck is my problem. I do not know.

I look at my shadow on the wall. I see my failure always attached to me. That’s my shadow on the wall. I can’t lose my shadow. It is a part of who I am; the ying to my yang, the shadow to my light. Maybe that is my problem. I am fighting the shadow of failure rather than accepting it as part of who I am. Maybe I should embrace it rather than run away. Let my yang become one with my ying and allow them to be in the natural state rather than separate them. I am not sure if this even makes sense to me. I don’t know.

What I do know is that I need to figure this shit out quick. I need to stop dilly dallying, pull my thumb from my ass and I need to stop waiting for shit to get done on its own. I need to get up off my ass and generate some business contacts.

As I was writing this, my wife got up from bed and came out and plopped down. She couldn’t sleep. Can you guess why? Because she is stressed about how we are going to make it past February. Yeah, knowing that she is stressing helps and hinders a lot. It is good to know that she is as worried as I am, but at the same time it sucks to know that she is losing sleep over the stress of the situation.

We talked about her concerns, and I am sure my responses did little to help settle her nerves about the situation. As a matter of fact, I am sure that my responses probably deepened her concerns, because the facts are; I don’t know. I don’t have the answers. I don’t have a plan. My plan died on November 30th when after sending out twenty targeted fliers; I generated not a single response. After posting on my site for a special discount on not only photo services, but prints as well, not a single taker. I have lowered my prices, and not a single response.

I know that I am doing something, or everything, wrong, but don’t know what it is. I will be up for the next five hours trying to figure it out. It’s amazing, I left a photographers conference in early November feeling confident that I had the tools I needed. Now I feel like a puppy thrown overboard a sinking ship in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. The main problem is that I am the one who threw me overboard. Now it is feeling like a sink or swim situation and it is feeling more and more like I am sinking. No excuses, reasons or finger pointing. I can only point my finger at the man in the mirror, because it is his fault; my fault. If I swim I get to own that. If I sink I get to own that.

So I am signing off now. Time to stew in my own juices for a while and I promise that it is a gross as it sounds. It is time to figure out how I might swim tomorrow. Good night.