Day 27

It feels like the last week of high school at work, except that the excitement of embarking upon new adventures has been replaced with the fear of financial failure. No actual work is really getting done for the most part. Some people are sending each other “keep in touch” messages while others are thinking about how they’ll never see any of us again and how they could care less.

Modest Mouse’s “Third Planet” keeps playing in my head…“everything that keeps me together is falling apart/ I got this thing that I consider my only art of fucking people over”.

That’s how sales feels sometimes. Like the art of f-ing people over. I know if I stayed in sales forever I would eventually lose it. I’d have a nervous breakdown or combust spontaneously or develop mental divergence like TJ Washington from Seven Monkeys. “Are you also divergent, friend?”

The President gave the State of the Union address tonight. And as I listened I felt solidly jaded; I remember how I started to feel that way as a teenager and I told myself not to let it happen, not to let it take over, to make sure I wasn’t like that as an adult.

I really don’t know what I’m going to do. I applied for the only muralist job I’ve ever seen posted and haven’t heard back. I still don’t know if I’ll get the bonus they’ve carrot-dangled at us since we got the pink slip news two months ago. I don’t know what will happen when I run out of extensions on my student loan forbearances.

But I guess the scary part is that I do know what I’ll do- I’ll get another job like I always do. And if nothing else, I’ll suppose I’ll also be making art.

Today’s piece is a watercolor/drawing of a photo I took in Berkeley. I love Berkeley’s oddness and industrialism- it always inspires me. I loved going to Berkeley a long time ago, when what I saw on the horizon was smog and not doom. When I loved punk music and read the thousand fliers wallpapered to the telephone poles with excitement and felt like I’d find a way to carve out my spot in the world instead of the world carving me out instead. Maybe I’ll find that bright spot again one of these days.