Artist Resources, Grants for Artists, Creative Projects, Making Money for Artists

I’m not an expert on anything. I may have some deeper knowledge in certain areas, like where to find artist opportunities or how to find your next book to read, but really I’m just a forty-year old father of two looking for ways to make it all work: parenting, partnering, homeowning, and artmaking. That’s just me, but I know I share a lot in common with the working artists who read this blog. Maybe like you, I feel the scarcity of money, time, and bandwidth. Maybe like you, I put a lot of undue pressure on myself to get things right all the time. And maybe like you, I long for an alternative, a flipping of the switch, a key that will unlock the mysteries of what it means to be a human in this world.

My measuring stick for rising inflation is the cost of an iced lavender matcha latte. It used to be $5, then $6, now a harrowing $7. Every time I reach the checkout screen, a familiar, condescending voice comes blaring through my head:

My blood still freezes in my veins when I think about that hot, summer night. I arrived drenched in sweat and stressed about keeping to the agreed time. I had just retrieved a box of my CDs — this story takes place in a distant, pre-Spotify era — a precious treasure that a friend had kept safe for me while I lived and toured in New Zealand. I was finally returning to Chile, and this gig would be my first concert in my country in a long time. Little did I know that my joyous homecoming would soon morph into an arts worker's horror story.

My measuring stick for rising inflation is the cost of an iced lavender matcha latte. It used to be $5, then $6, now a harrowing $7. Every time I reach the checkout screen, a familiar, condescending voice comes blaring through my head:

A high stakes barter exchange takes place in my apartment every morning. My cat, Zart, has determined that the fair market value of one (1) hour of additional sleep in the morning is equivalent to ¼ cup of dry food. Most recently, he has stipulated that ½ can of wet food can be exchanged for two (2) hours of additional sleep. If neither of these goods appear in his bowl at 6AM, I will not receive any additional sleep.

My measuring stick for rising inflation is the cost of an iced oat milk vanilla matcha latte. It used to be $5, then $6, now a harrowing $7. Every time I reach the checkout screen, a familiar, condescending voice comes blaring through my head:

Resource scarcity leads us to borrow, and that pushes us deeper into scarcity. Why? Because when we have scarce resources we tunnel (i.e., we focus on the here and now, the fires, what needs to get done right now). Tunneling leads us to neglect. Tunneling today creates more tunneling tomorrow, and leads us to borrow — in a borrowing from Petra to pay Paula and eventually needing to pay back Petra with significant interest scenario — so that we’re using the same physical resources less effectively, placing us one step behind.