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Thursday, January 19, 2006

Bringing up shit from the basement.

Please Note: All blog posts should be considered snapshots in time and do not represent how I feel about everything all the time. Though the writing of this post did serve to piss me off for the rest of the work day. I do not consider myself a failure, nor do I believe my life would be happier if it took a different route. I myself was surprised at how angry it made me, but there you go. Freezeframe!

EYEBALL PIC 1

NEW AXE

Marks Bank Vault

Alessandra sent me these pictures she found on some dead media (floppies and zips), in formats that I'm lucky to open. They catalog the best of what I had hoped my career would be at the time. Digital Artist.

Unfortunately, while looking at them, they unlocked a deep core of anger within me. 11 years ago I actually wanted to have a career rather than take the Path of Peondom.

I spent many hours in an unheated office wearing gloves and a coat learning new software on criminally slow computers. Life does what life does and moves on and you are forced to make decisions of Food, Rent and Love over Dream, and for me, the obstacles became too great: lack of information, training, equipment and worse, when I found people who were working in the same area they actively sabotaged me by denying me access to the technology and personal support I needed and craved.

Again and again, in every field outside of print production: photo retouching, web design, interactive development, 3d, Flash Animation, I found myself being tripped up by co-workers, employers and clients; denied access to my dreams. I've lost count of the number of times I've had to relearn software applications and scripting languages because I was called on to use them, only to have the projects yanked out from under me due to circumstances beyond my control.

I'm knowingly bitter about work, but it's been so long since I've thought about why, and these images bring it home with a crash. Everything I had tried to do in the workforce has failed. Everything. Learned helplessness.

I admit that things aren't bad. The Peter Principle has put me in a 3rd rate advertising company that pays a Living Wage, and I most of the people I work with are nice.

There's a lot more I could say about my past and what events were that turned me into me. But there are no dynamics there other than a smoldering rage. I don't work hard because it was never expected of me, though I do work to improve myself, and work at being a good husband (mostly), and the guitar (out of bloody mindedness now). So I know I'm not a complete failure though I somehow suspect, that I will manage to fail at that too.

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