A selfie of an artist amid a day job, an e-store, and bots

August 22, 2017



And a blog, too! I cringe at the thought of having to balance between imagination and reality. Oftentimes, you jolt out of your reveries at a dog's bark to find your actual place in this world. Well, frequently at this time and age, you locate yourself with a little help from Google map.


Selfie with a day job

I know artists who've kept their "day jobs" as, well, artists, which is admirable, hence, as some would say, I'd fall under the category of a "Sunday artist", so to speak. Only problem is, I hardly have a concept of days, with Yesterday and Today added into my weekdays. While on my "day job", I'd daydream my way into believing that what I do is for the betterhood of art, too, henceforth, the betterhood of the whole wide world. I'd weave around this mental cult without disbelief. I'd strive to reach the pinnacle of creativity, as a copywriter and a lot more. But in between this modern-day career carousel and out-of-office fun, there's this tiny voice whispering at intervals: "The rice is boiling".

Balancing night and day, I realized at first that, in my case, there's really not much of a borderline. My wee hours would turn out as an extension of my regular work hours. Even in my previous job, I'd tend to integrate some of my learning with what I'd love to do most, not only referencing knowledge, but also referencing how I acquired it. I have mounds of essays and sketches lying underneath my bed. On my way to work, I'd look around to see all things sped up past me, and they all almost seemed like abstract realities ready to be penned down into verses and lines. Evernote is my bestfriend (this is not a paid ad). Satire is my cup of coffee with a teaspoon of brown sugar.


Selfie with an e-store

Learning how to tinker with e-commerce not so long ago and seeing what the interwebz are up to, I left my gloomy cave behind and took a peek. The internet is a jungle filled with small cats and big cats alike, all on a tug-of-digital-space, and all under the influence of the virtual catnip. And there's me dawdling from the doorsteps, keeping track of where others have left off. It was all fun and games at first until your next bills' due date. So, everything turned dark and grim, and you would gulp down a resolution of meeting your pocket's demands and popping out of nowhere with your digitalized face to present valuable content and broken lines. Gradually, I transformed into a weightlifter, balancing an anchor of paint bucket and cloud computing from one shoulder to the other, chatting with artists and digital natives at the same time, at times wondering whether it's a human or a humanoid speaking from the other end of the line.

But all of these are the bumps and turns of the cyber universe. You could turn an invisible switch on when it's time to "market" your psyche to all of its inhabitants - human, android, and all. And then, there's the cyber artists' space, your cyber carpool. You're ready to hitch a cyber ride to announce your cyber existence, learning from their digital ups and downs, sharing your digital sentiments.

At the end of the day, all is well with what you have achieved, so far. You're all set to proceed to a race that has no finish line. Until the alarm clock goes off again. The cats are hungry. And you've just missed your first bus. 

The end.


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