Change of Life
I’m a little young to be having a mid-life crisis.
Aren’t I? I mean, isn’t 36 (okay almost 37) a little soon for that? Most of my family lived well into their 80’s before they finally took the dirt nap. But, I have no other quick way to describe how I’m feeling. I don’t like what I do for a living very much any more. I’m tired of it. It’s not that I don’t like the place that I’m working now, because they’re just fine. A mostly friendly group of people all pitching together to get product done and out. But, after 12+ years, it’s gotten to be the same old thing. The same kinds of user problems. The same issues. The same unsolvable situation of doing more with less and less and less. I’m tired of it, and I’m not the only one. But, what else can I do? I’ve done this so long, it’s all I’m really qualified to do without a lot of retraining. And, even if I were willing to do the retraining, what would I retrain to do? Then, there’s the matter of pay…
I’d like to be an artist. And, not a digital artist, either, though I think I have potential there. I’d rather be a real artist. Drawing, painting, sculpting. If I could make a decent living at it, writing. (Though, I have to admit, I’m so burned out these days that I haven’t even tried to write that much.) Frighteningly enough, I think I could make a better living making yard art than I could writing. So much paper, but so few who actually seem to read.
Actually, I remember as a kid being quite impressed with a particular metal artist’s work. He did these incredible fountains that sold for thousands of dollars, and that was back in the late 70’s or early 80’s. They were impressive things, too. Usually, they were a good two or three feet across and at least as high. I remember one that looked like giant flowers of some kind and each one spouted a little trickle of water. There was another one that was all coppery maple leaves that picked up more of a patina as the water flowed over them. And, he had kinetic sculpture, too. Things that spun or bounced or rocked back and forth. It was a really amazing metal wonderland when he would bring his work to the art shows at our church. I can’t remember his name, but I still have several of his little, inert, dry pieces: A cricket, a baseball player, a skier, a broken trio of butterflies. I used to have one of his desktop, spinning kinetic sculptures, too, but that seems to be gone. Well, maybe it’ll turn up again one day. Or, maybe I’ll make my own. I always wanted to design fountains like he made. Maybe I can find a welding class and buy, or rent, the equipment I need to make my own metal art.
I’ve always been a creative person, so that end of things isn’t a problem. And, these days, hard physical labor is, occasionally, quite rewarding. It’s certainly less stressfull than my current day job. I’m sure I can find a class that will teach me the skills I need to have to create the metal art, whatever shape it might take.
I wonder what that guy I so admired pulled down in an average year?
