We Are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful what we pretend to be.
–Kurt Vonnegut

“You were Superman last time,” my cousin said to me as the sunlight streamed through the open screen window, letting in the summer warmth.

“But I don’t WANT to be Batman this time,” I said, knowing that choosing the right character was half the fun. Who wanted to be a guy who ran most places and had to drive in a car to get anywhere? I wanted to fly.

And so it went, when we were kids, pretending. We always chose carefully and pretended with everything we had.

That’s one of the ways I came to be an artist. I pretended I was one. I never had any training. I’ve always wanted to be an artist, since I was a kid. I tried to pursue it in college, but for one reason or another, it didn’t work out. Then, one day, I decided, Hell yes, I’m an artist. And one thing that artists do, besides make art, is have shows. So I started having shows.

The first year I showed was back in Ohio, and I showed only once, at a local coffee shop. From there, after arriving in Missoula, I showed only once the first year I was here, and I wasn’t even present for the opening — I was on the road. Upon my return, I showed officially only once that year. Then, I had access to framing tools and a place to frame, a studio of my own, and I went crazy. I had four shows in 2006, with different original work for each show. I sold enough work last year to pay my rent four months in a row, which was good because my dayjob couldn’t figure out a way to make payroll in a timely fashion, but that’s another story best told over beers.

For a while, now, I’ve had dayjobs that either are unfulfilling, or pay little. The one I currently have is so mentally draining and morale is so low among the troops as to be unhealthy. Something’s got to give. Someday everything will be beautiful, nothing will hurt. Not sure how to make that happen yet, but am starting to think of myself as a Professional Artist. I guess I have been thinking of myself that way for a while.

Does that mean that the art that I make pays the bills? No. And for now, that’s OK. I’d like to build towards that. In the meantime, the dayjob, at least the one I have now, is a means to an end. I’ll continue to pretend I am a professional artist, sans the training, sans the consistant paycheck, and I will become him. So it goes.

What do you pretend to be? What do you want to pretend to be?