Cecil Sirius Seaside

Wow, so I hardly ever update anymore, compared to a couple years ago, I'd write every day. Things change I guess. Priorities change. For some reason I don't feel like writing out my thoughts anymore. I'm not sure if I feel good or bad about it. Maybe I'm "living" more than I'm thinking and writing about life. I'm not sure if that's true though. It's good to write, I know that. That is "living" too. I need to do more of that at least, in some form.

I got a new job, a real design job for real adult money. I start in a couple weeks. I'll be working downtown with the real business people. I'll be commuting on the bus early in the morning. 9-5, pretty much. Clocking in and out. I feel like I should get a briefcase and a trench coat. I need a new costume for this part I'm about to play. Actually I really need an overcoat of some sort because it's been raining almost every day.

So no more retail art supply store part time job. No more midnight shift. No more never knowing week to week when I'll be working. No more 20 hour work weeks and leisure time in between. No more poverty.

It actually feels like my first real job because the job I had from '97-2005 was a small company using shady practices to "present themselves" as a reputable connected establishment. It was like a fake company. Everything I did there was toward helping them seem legitimate. That's the kind of person the boss was, a complete bullshitter.

I feel like I'm reinventing myself in every way, and while that is exciting and refreshing, when you're building something, you start with a foundation and those decisions guide the direction of what it becomes. Every choice is a limitation, a sacrifice. But it's counter-productive to think about that too much. An artist doesn't plan every move. You try to know yourself and be true to yourself, then you jump in and whatever happens is perfection; flawed, awkward, uncomfortable or beautiful.