"Making art into a full-time job—indie or industry—can require years of scraping with no guaranteed payoff. It becomes a much smoother path if you’ve got a phone full of friends from whatever art school, enough spare time to hone and promote your work, and family who can support you and who don’t need to be supported. Social capital is still capital, and in our economic system, an art career is a luxury purchase.”
There is little I despise more than people who don’t understand how to move. The last time I moved my big, strong roommate spent the whole time standing by the truck smoking and asking, “Chris, what should I do now?” I’m surprised I didn’t kill him.
I’m everyone’s worst anal retentive nightmare when moving. Like I said - constant motion, people, constant motion.
Now, a couple of today’s “helpers” have apparently given up any pretense of moving. They’re actually sitting on the curb drinking beer watching the others. It fills me with rage and it has nothing to do with me. Ghosts of moves past.
“Give me a man or woman who has read a thousand books and you give me an interesting companion. Give me a man or woman who has read perhaps three and you give me a dangerous enemy indeed.”—Anne Rice, The Witching Hour