Day Four--A Room of her own.

I have been really excited about writing again. Writing anything, good or bad, just doing something semi creative, using what's left of my brain, and frankly it is a great way for me to unwind. But. . .
Virgina Woolfe wrote a whole book, A Room of Your Own. At the time I had to read it, it made intellectual sense to me, but I felt like people with great gifts just had the creativity pour out of them. Woolfe's perspective was that she was lucky. An aunt or someone had left her a small stipend that allowed her a small flat where she could spend her days thinking and writing--instead of being a shop girl or some other job that women were fit for in her day. I only truly understand it now, with two jobs, and lot's of responsibilities I never seem to complete. And a partner who probably has a right to complain that every evening after 14 hours away I sit down to the computer to try and write something relevant.
I also realize Woolfe actually really new her shit better than I ever gave her credit for. Creativity doesn't just seep out of great artist in any genre because it needs to come out. Great artist from past centuries, usually always had patrons or family, whatever that funded their lives. Van Gogh's brother, Theo, financed him even to the detrement of his own family, so Vincent could support his need for paint and canvas without having a job. On the other hand the financing was so little that today we have more self-portraits of Van Gogh than probably anyone else because he couldn't afford models. Picasso, was lucky enough to be an artist who sold work during his lifetime, allowing him to paint mistress after mistress, without really a steady patron of his work, allowing him to follow his own creative path. Jackson Pollock, after switching from Cubism to Abstract Expressionism found Peggy Guggenheim who commissioned pieces and gave him money in between. Diego Rivera was another artist fortunate enough to sell his work during his lifetime. His commissions didn't always please his patrons, but allowed him to focus to be the greatest Fresco painter of his or maybe even our time.
I suspect it is a little harder for writers. Fitzgerald was the toast of the jazz age, sold his pieces to literary publications if nothing else. Had his lifestyle been a little less extravagant he could have lived even better. Publishing his books didn't hurt, either. The sad statement of Fitzgerald is arguably his greatest work, The Great Gatsby, was never fully appreciated during his lifetime. And in order to try and keep himself afloat and Zelda in respectable institutions, he went to Hollywood and sold his soul attempting to be a screen writer. It was a lose, lose situation. His drinking absorbed a good deal of his brilliance and the lack of success pulled him further down into his alcoholic despair So it is very symbolic that he should write the quote of show him a hero and he could write you a tragedy.
Maybe every great artist has truly suffered for his art. And believe me, I can't compare to a mediocre artist/writer, much less the greats I have mentioned. I only now realize that as much as I want to express myself, I have no room of my own. I have jobs, and dishwashers to unload. I have people who would still like to spend time with me and I blow them off to try and write something no one probably wants to read. While I joke about having followers and selling my blog for a book deal which I could later leverage for the movie rights I'm mostly kidding. Yet, on the Today Show I saw a couple from England and the wife taped the conversations the husband had in his sleep and pasted them into a blog. Got to tell you, I truly think I have more than that.
The solution? I have a few. I have a couple hours a day in the car to conceive what I want to write about. I have two job, so one would think I could afford a laptop so I could spend time with my peeps and still blog. Or . . . the premier possibility, I could find my niche. Write something people really wanted to follow and read. And have a clear focus of where this is going!
I've had fun writing about my misspent youth, and I want to continue--to a point. But you know what I really love. Writing snarfy blogs about celebrities and wannabe's, and letting all my wit and sarcasm out!! I want to use cultural references that only the people I respect understand.
In the meantime, I'm just going to try and entertain myself and you.