I came home from my part time job this morning and opened up the Wendell Berry book that was on the table next to my chair to the poem “Independence Day”. I admit I’ll have to read the poem again, the only part that resonated was the title. I quit my job today, so maybe I was looking for some reassurance in the poem that wasn’t there, or maybe I’ll get it tomorrow, or next week, or next year.
I’m both nervous and excited about leaving this job. It was a sense of security for me. A dependable paycheck and benefits. The job marks a period in my life. I got it when I was at my lowest, at a point in my life when I didn’t even know I could get an apartment or a job or take care of myself. Today I told the people I work with it was time for me to move on. I felt bad leaving, but everyone seemed to instinctively understand.
I plan on working on my art full time, starting the Pig barn Gallery and working with some friends at a Gallery in Glens Falls. I’ve never dedicated myself so fully to my work. Even when I was in school, I was working a couple of jobs and could never figure out how to incorporate my work with my life.
Being in a creative and encouraging relationship definitely helps and may be essential. Actually, I seem to be surrounded by people who understand, maybe better than I do, that this is the right move for me. They are all but saying “What took you so long.”
Of course, ultimately, it’s me who has to make the decision and take responsibility for it. Right now, I feel like a snowball rolling downhill. The more I do, the more I’ll do. The more energy I put into it, the more momentum I’ll build. I think I came to the point where the part time job became a place to hide. You can’t fail if you don’t try. But I don’t believe failure ever comes from creativity, it just leads to the next thing.