Artist

My parents had this thing about there being a class system. My dad did communications cabling and mum was a hairdresser, they are both working class jobs and that makes me working class. Working class boys do apprenticeships. Working class boys don’t take courses just because they find them interesting or their friends are doing it or their teachers say they should. Working class boys only take courses if there trade requires they take the course. Working class boys do not get involved in the arts or theatre or study philosophy, that is just for the middle class. Working class boys work in good solid reliable working class jobs. So I spent eight years trying to make it it trades and couldn’t make it work.

The overwhelming advice from everyone else was; get an education in the arts. My initial reaction is ”artist? I don’t want to be an artist, you’ll never have a job as a result you’ll never have any money as a result you will never go anywhere or do anything, you’ll just sit at home doing art work no one cares about.” But trades just wast working out for me and I kept hearing it ”you seem more like an artist.” So I took off traveling and became an art student. I studied philosophy, English literature, performance art, print making theology, and learned to juggle. Then after a few years I set out to become a professional clown. Then I started meeting working artists. They weren’t struggling all that much, they had adventures, they earned a good living and they had a lot of fun in the process. I didn’t want to be an artist because I didn’t want to do the struggling artist thing. But I ended up having to do the struggling artist thing anyway with the thought I wouldn’t be struggling nearly so much if I had ignored my parents and listened to everyone else. For all the effort I put into trades I couldn’t convince people I was a tradesman. But I could convince people I was a clown when I set out to do so. I am an artist, it is just something about me, it’s the way I am.