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 I never wanted my art to take a backseat and for many years I fought to keep it front and center even when it seemed impossible.  With so much happening in the world and even in my own life I've found it incredibly difficult to keep it all afloat. 

But nothing's impossible.  I find myself a victim to negativity and self-doubt on a daily basis, and I look back on all I've done still with awe.  How did I even get here?  Who made these works of art that I continue to admire and find inspiration over?  It was me...then, before it seemed the world was crashing down on me yet again. 

I hate playing the victim though, so it doesn't take long to figure out what I need to do to get out of it.  I love that meme that says eventually the pain of not doing art becomes greater than the pain of avoiding it or something like that.  Art finds its way in here and there, always.  But whatever dreams of grandeur I once held fall slowly away, and that hurts.  So in some way I set out to do something about it.  

In my post about reinvention, which I wrote about 2 years ago, I remembered what sparked the next wave of inspiration, the gaming world.  I didn't necessarily want to become a game artist, so much as I wanted to be a gamer and I needed a reason, a validation to do it.  It couldn't just be for fun, because that's a waste of time.  But slowly over time as I played more and more and tried to incorporate some kind of money-making strategy, the fun started to take precedence.  I logged onto my computer just to play and not worry about going live or making content.  The barrier became harder to get through.  The gap between my confidence and fear became wider and suddenly doing it all over again became too scary.  I needed to feel more ready.   I needed better graphics.  I needed better marketing.  I needed to network more and learn more about the process. 

I've gone live very rarely now.  Not just for the above reasons, but also because I suffered a great loss to anchor in this world.  Anyone who has experienced the loss of a close loved one knows how hard the grieving process can be, but also, I was not aware of how many ways it was affecting me.  Unworthiness, despair, and nihilism crept in, and took hold for a long while.  In recent months I've only begun thinking somewhat again of my future and how I used to be.  The pain of not doing what I once wanted is once again becoming too great.  Though I am still not sure how strong that pain is in taking me all the way, when now it has so much more to compete with. 

Time as also passed so casually and I'm 2 years away from where I once was and find myself so far from where I thought I'd be at this time.  Often times feeling I've barely started anything at all.  And feeling like it's too late, when everyday someone greater and younger comes along and does exactly what I wanted with so much ease, and with so much time to spare.  Imagine.  My high school self was so confident that I would be retiring in just 5 short years from where I currently am. 

I mean I know I was just a dumb kid, but I didn't feel like one.  I felt very confident in what I could do, and I carried that confidence into my college classes, and beyond.   I was told many times how lucky I was.  And while I'm impressed even now that I got as far as I did, I'm not where I wanted to be.  I may have been able to get this far with talent and confidence, but some "level-up" from that stage hasn't seemed to occur.  I feel like somewhere I got knocked down.  During my breakup?  During my grieving?  Either way it's still up to me, which is both hopeful, and not.  I'm more tired than I once was.  I'm less inspired.  I've done far less work than I used to.  I've lost space to make art that I once had.  I would almost be relying entirely on digital art, just to be able to work and not use up materials or space that are now very precious.  And to add to that I'm no unemployed, in a completely new state.  It is both excited and terrifying. 

And now as I write I'm feeling that long distance call for help.  Somewhere inside is that kid who was hungry: who wanted more.   All this time I was striving to impress that one person: to make their life easier and show them that it was all worth it.   Now it's as if I have to impress upon myself that this is all worth it.  That young dumb kid who said I'd be retired by now.  I know he thought he knew it all, and what he didn't he'd learn.  Man, the learning doesn't stop.  The fear doesn't just stop.  The self-doubt doesn't just go away.  I'm definitely carrying much more than I was those many years ago.  But I still look up. 

I don't know what I'm looking for, but somehow looking up reminds me that I'm still smaller and younger than this big old planet.  My time is finite, but there's still some of it left.  I do still want those things I wanted when I was half-joking with my friends around the booth eating pizza and drinking a coke, with what seemed to be not a care or doubt in the world.  Maybe I have been dropped into a much more elaborate obstacle course to my dreams, but I can still find my way.  It's not too late.  

Can I retire in 5 years? LUL, I don't know, but let's find out, I'm not there yet.  And at this point I'll take retirement to mean financially free, and maybe...