Remedios Varo, my favorite painter, entitled this painting La Despedida--in English The Farewell. I keep going two directions at once. At 35 I still don't have the slightest idea what I'll be doing when I'm 50. Will I have to work until my 70's? Surely there will be no government support for me. And what would I do? Teach? It is unlikely that I have a future in teaching. Without a PhD I am pretty much stuck at ACC (assuming I stay in Austin). If I stay with ACC, it is unlikely that I will ever have a decent salary, job security, retirement, or even benefits that are paid for.Where is the other half of me? Where is she going? There must be somewhere better to go. If I take a 9-5 job how long can it last? Would I be able to stand the loud bark of high school should I make my way towards teaching it? I am a great worker. I have a lot to offer, and I don't think there are any takers.
I am not alone.
I should have been more focused with grad school. Chosen a real career. I have a masters in Creative Writing. I have no books published yet. I have not received any grants. I feel like a fraud standing in a puddle of poetry.
The women in the painting are passing up so many hallways. Are they making mistakes? Are there great opportunities inside those arches?
I love painting. poetry, music, costumes. These are not marketable skills.
Almost every friend I have is drifting around, just like me. We are untethered--which is exciting--but we are not in any way safe. When we all grow old what will become of us?
Perhaps if I had some protective reef. . . I could swim out from under it and play in the waters for limited amounts of time. Then I would dutifully go back to my reef.
I could have taken the stairs. The floor has fallen out, and underneath--the dark water.
This entry comes with a symphony of tiny violins.
4 comments:
Are there people who are particularly satisfied by their jobs? High school would kill you, by the way. There would be a good chance you might encounter someone like me. Nobody wants that!
Also, it is absurd to call yourself a fraud. A grant doesn't make you a poet.
I will see you in a month.
Hey what? Can you paint?
Untethered.... Hmmmm, I like the sound of that. It seems more dignified than something like "vagabond" or some other such relatively meaningless adjective.
I've been tethered before and nothing good came of it (OK, one thing good came of it)... But you are not wrong to think about the future. In fact, you are wise to do so, but don't distress. We'll be there for each other, K?
It's probably the socialist in me that comes from having lived too many years in Germany but... seriously. If this damned country appreciated the amazing talents that you have, there wouldn't be so much worry over how to survive. We don't take care of our own and it's a damn shame. My suggestion is that you marry a European; the quality of life you'll receive with that residency is far superior to what you will deal with retiring with here. There are plenty of them over there that want to marry Americans for their own green card reasons. BTW, I found out that if Colby and I marry, he can use my EU residency and move there with me if it ever came to that...
I felt "unsafe" almost every single day of my first 39 years, and for many of the same reasons you mention here. For the past 6 months or so, I do not.
I have no college degree at all. I have 3 published poems & 2 published stories (can you say "bfd"?). I have no man whatsoever to potentially take care of things if I can't work for some reason. And my main source of income has a short shelf-life! And yet I feel fine lately.
I'm a writer who has probably made a total of $500 off my writing thus far. I'm still not worried like I used to be, for some reason. I guess I just believe in myself more than I used to.
I'm not sure that's very helpful to you. But, I just wanted to say I really 'get' this post. And it's another reminder of why I always feel a connection with you.
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