The longest day of the year.

Somehow the summer is half over. I have crossed the threshold of the longest day of light and yet I am not even started with my year.

After two months in London I have finally found a place of my own. So now I officially live in London and work in Chicago (as I still have my studio Beta in Chicago)

I am writing this blog from the plane. I am actually writing during the take off because in first class you can do that sort of thing and no one bothers you about it. I have to say that a random upgrade to first class really makes life a lot nicer. I was pissed standing in line when the auto check in said I had to go through the line anyway but when I got to the front it was because I had been upgraded to first class. Not sure why, I hope this doesn’t affect my flight miles but hell, it is rather nice in the pods. I like it up here I think.

So even though Saturday was the solstice and thus the real longest day today I will chase the sun over the ocean, leaving at 1 pm and getting to Chicago at 3pm the same day even though I have spent 8 hours in the air. So for me, today is the longest day of the year.

My life has been up and down lately. I have seen some amazing things, saw Pete Nolan play drums for Jandek, went to see MBV last night (thank you for the tickets Carrie!) not to mention Bansky exhibitions, personally painting the worlds largest single artist graffiti on the lawn of Victoria Park last month (145 meters by 70 meters – 20+ 750ml cans of field line marking paint), getting an email from Kramer (of Shimmy Disc fame) saying he likes my songs on myspace, and swimming in the multicultural sea of greater London itself. But through all of these great ups I have been haunted by the money demon. Wondering constantly how to make it in the world of art and experimental film. I have been navigating these waters for so damn long but as I get older I get tired of the struggle.

Its not that I will give up on doing what I do and go back to working at some ad agency. I have had enough of doing odd jobs and struggling to pay the rent for 5 lives, but I can not do anything but make art. Film, paint, video, sound – all these things are who I am and what I believe. They are my religion and my philosophy. I make things, ideas, daydreams that become some kind of color or tone. It just happens to be who I am.

But it has never been an easy life. I have had so many great experiences, been so many places and done as much as I could with what I have in the time I have been given. But the world is not shaped to support creativity. I am just lucky, both in the sense of true luck (as in, why and I in first class right now reading the selection of wines?) and in that I have been surrounded by great people.

But still there is the struggle. My work exists and in the end that is all that is important but who sees it and how it becomes something that changes the way people see the world matters to me as well. I long for something larger, for some foothold that would allow my bigger dreams to escape into the world.

In the meantime I will take the randomness of a winelist and a random flight upgrade but when I hit the ground in Chicago its back to the struggle. Back to the world of harsh edges and getting by. Tomorrow will be only slightly shorter than today, but I will notice nonetheless.


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