Shot by Shot: Art Under Stalin

After a weekend of vacationing with Patrick's family, followed by a week of my family visiting, I have had to take my own vacation to recouperate. Externally, this is almost indistinguishable from my regular life, but when people ask me what I'm doing I say, "I'm on vacation." (Sometimes I say that I'm on holiday, but this is risky; people then have an opening to ask what I'm celebrating. I'm largely celebrating non-celebration, because celebration is far too active and stressful.) Internally, however, vacation is a beautiful, serene place, totally devoid of the typical stressors of being Romie. These stressors include, for example, making plans for the future and attempting to meet goals. When I think about these things, the economist side of my brain kicks in, and I am faced with a dense, machete-resistant jungle which grows with the speed and tenacity of kudzu. It goes something like this:

[begin loop]

What should I do with my time? I am an artist obviously, but my art takes a number of different forms. In order for me to make a great work, I must concentrate on one above the others. However, choosing one above the others involves a high opportunity cost - by choosing to focus on any one, I am explicitly choosing not to focus on the others. This is therefore an important and weighty choice. Moreover, I should be careful when choosing to account for both training and potential - potential being notably more important since other people could and will receive the same training, but more risky because it isn't proven. In fact, it is not neccessary to do what I do best; it is more productive to think of things in terms of comparative advantage . . . which takes us back to opportunity cost, something I cannot properly appraise without trying each option, which is exactly what I'm attempting to get away from, since the greatest opportunity cost comes from not ever making a choice.

[repeat indefinitely]

Obviously, (to me anyway,) the most helpful solution should be to ask other people what they think. Unfortunately, they just tell you to do whatever they did because it's very pleasant for them to imagine they've led the best possible life - it's just totally unrealistic. Psychologically healthy, yes. Pragmatic, not a bit.

Inevitably, my mind goes back to film, which is absolutely the worst choice I could possibly make. I mean, I really am good at it, and it's something I can only do if I focus on it completely, whereas anything else I can do in my spare time; it's also incredibly expensive and almost nobody succeeds at it. I've known people who've made a living at music, theatre, dance, painting, photography, and even fashion; I've never known anybody who succeeded in film.

I'm also better than them.

Which doesn't matter much.

And, goddamnit, I really didn't want to go back to school, which is mostly a big con.

I try to meet my goals, but I feel that everyone is lying to me and/or hoping I will fail so they can feel good about having their lives instead of mine. This seems like paranoia, but there's a pretty substantial pile of evidence which includes direct quotes like "I hope you will fail so that I can feel good about having my life instead of yours." [not actually a direct quote.] And, hell, I probably am going to fail, it's just possible that I won't. If I ever get around to making a solid decision.

I'm going to go gnaw my leg off.

[addendum: On the other hand, Kermit the Frog made it against all odds, and he was being stalked by a crazy Southern restraunt franchiser.]