The ceiling looms above you, like a subway conductor, it does it’s job without you even noticing. You’re awake-lying horizontally and internally to yourself that today will be a good day. I’m not going to sit in the house, that was yesterday. Up onto your pedestal, you’ll only be able to fall from here. I did this today, I fell, as I found the most motivating insult I’ve ever seen. It was hidden in my local library.
You’re entirely lost right now, I know you are. That’s good-trust me. Here’s a spilling of my internal discussion forum between the various forum of philosophers within myself:
I’m very mentally ill, I have trouble with contribution to society, ideals of money and value. I’ve become even more passionate about these wild ideals as I’ve aged. It’s caused me problems, to the point of attempted suicide, embarrassingly I am apparently very passionate about my interpretations; correct or not.
I am formally trained in business, I’ve ran a few over the years myself. I enjoy the individuality of it, the write-your-own-rules rebellion of business ownership. I hate the money aspect.
I desperately want to be in school. This thought causes me pain each day. I get so angry with people who are in school but don’t want to be there. So fucking mad at those who are there but don’t even know what they want to be doing. I KNOW what I want to be doing, I’ve been dreaming of it since I was 2 years old: I want to design cars. Art and Cars are what keep my heart beating and my physical structure intact each day, as I may wake up and have some motivation to contribute.
I recently quit my job. I couldn’t handle the abusive smiling cycle of hustling people for money. It was selling auto parts, but it has nothing to do with cars. Every person who does well at the job, isn’t a car person, and car people who work there just become sad and bitter towards automobiles. It’s not a conducive atmosphere to creativity and passion, but rather to money making and hustling. Gross.
As I sit here, day in, day out, questioning my value-considering a second attempt, I ask myself this: What motivates me to live? The only consistent joy I’ve had from this world is creating automotive art. Counter culture art has been a flame of pure lust, and it’s shown in my young days as a kid drawing cars, my teen age years modifying racing video games, and my adult years playing with real cars.
I wish to someday be a car designer.
Why is this photo insulting? What’s so upsetting about it? It’s truth. To explain further, I’ve been chasing this dream my entire life, from designing and building custom bicycles, to teaching myself CAD design, to learning to draw for industrial design. I want to go to school so badly but for the wrong reasons. I recently sat down at a local college with a guidance counselor and asked them how to achieve my goals. “I want to design cars!” I proclaimed to them “This is my dream!” I continued. Her and I walked through the process, it was a familiar walk down a well tread path. I had gone down this rabbit hole before on my own, multiple times, thinking there might be some other way to get a job designing cars, I wanted to see if I was wrong. I wasn’t. “You don’t need school” she reinforced, “You just need a good portfolio to apply to jobs with.” For months afterwards, I continued practicing my hand drawings during slow times at work. I was still at the same spot, a river with no obvious bridge to cross. To continue the metaphor, you don’t know which way to walk the shore in hopes of finding a place to fjord.
You may never get why that photo is insulting, I’m sorry. Maybe it’s the energy drinks talking. Sometimes ideas strike me at the right time and today was that day. It’s obvious I am not good at drawing, but I still need a portfolio. The nice thing about art, is it can be abstract, and I’ve accidentally been building a portfolio all along. This blog is a real good example of my what I would consider art, that really is hip and pretentious. Deal.
A student get a student loan to not only pay for, but live during school. Since my desired job doesn’t require school, and the schools that exist for it, only exist in other countries, I need to train on my own. I need to find a similar way of building my portfolio. Let’s make car art. I did so already this year, I may have failed Australia, but I did not fail on Sputnik, add it to the portfolio.
I dislike working for other people, building their dreams for them is very rewarding temporarily. Doing so for a longer time becomes strikingly contrast, and I begin to hate them for it. RIP Ed Cotes. I do get off, almost actually helping someone achieve their own goals, but only if mine aren’t ignore for too long. Let’s run a business? I guess, but I don’t enjoy the money aspect. How can we over come this?
Let’s make art? I don’t think it’s possible to front the money myself in hopes to make it back afterwards, plus that would just be a typical business, art being the product. I’d been meaning to do a kickstarter for a while now. It’s a nice concept as it works so well with art. What’s my art again? Building cars….in a Quinn/Speed Hero sort of way. It always has been. From the first Rotarolla, to the second, to the third, and everything along the way. I can’t say these efforts have been monumental, but people consistently remind me that they enjoyed them.
Ideas bouncing around, like a rock in your shoe, need to come out. I’ve had a few I’ve been too embarrassed to admit to, wearing holes in my skull from the inside. Chipping away as they rattle around.
The Obvious Affordable HotRod, & the Scrap Heap Super car, both top the list.