Art as Prostitution

“So why are you in the business of commercial art and not fine art?”

My program coordinator posed this question to us this morning in my Advanced Photoshop class.

Money money money… Yes! That is why!” he exclaimed with a smile on his face.

  • You don’t tell the client it took two hours, you tell them it took four!
  • Don’t share your secrets with others around you, hide them and get ahead!
  • Learn shortcuts, detach from your art
  • And most importantly, do what the client wants!

“We are in this business because we like to prostitute our trade” he joked.

Were willing to do just about anything for a price.

 

I listened to the lecture and felt the curds of vomit begin to form in my stomach. It’s just not right… simply not right at all. Which of us creative people desire to sell out? To think only of what somebody else wants from us and kill all of the scraps left of our creativity?

I’m pretty sure when we were children, not a single one of us would refuse to punch our future selves if we heard ourselves talking like that. And yet… here I was surrounded by classmates who were eagerly shaking their head in agreement, laughing jovially, and awaiting his nuggets of wisdom.

 

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I’ve known I was in the wrong program for about a year now… but it still saddens me to see so many people brainwashed and to think that at one point he had me too.

Why is it, I wonder, that today’s society in America puts so little emphasis or appreciation into the arts?

By no means am I saying that the professions we hold in such high esteem are anything less important then what they’re made to be. Or that all commercial artists think this way. Hell yes we need doctors! We couldn’t do so much of what we do without engineers, mathematicians, teachers, scientists and everything in-between! Yet… it seems to be a common denominator throughout the human race as a whole that these jobs keep us physically living, able to function, evolve longer lifespans to survive. 

But we live for the arts.

What would we do without our music on our way to work? Without the movies we go to see with our families and friends? Our T.V. shows? Our books?

Our art sets our mood and allows us to escape the pressures of this world if even momentarily. 

Without it… would we really enjoy life? It’s said to be unessential… cut from school programs while logic and reasoning is shoved down the throats of our future generation. All for what? So we can keep progressing… get a stable job… make a good sum of money…but be numb to the life around us past the age of 12?

I think it’s time for a reset. I think it’s time to cultivate our individuality and creativity. To think outside the box and stop running towards desk jobs and benefits with paid vacations.

It’s time to start asking ourselves the big questions… Who are you? And who do you want?

I’m done listening to other peoples’ fears. Done with group mentalities and doubt and security. There’s no guarantee that any of my stories will become published… no promises that my words will be liked… nothing. I have a dream and a purpose and I’m going to start riding it unaltered towards the light I see until I reach it or die trying. Even if I never reach my goals… at least I can say I lived life the way I wanted, and not the way some client told me to.

Life’s to short to spend 40 hours a week hating it… Live a life you won’t regret.

~Fioza

Because you love me…

“No matter where you go in life… I know you will do great things”

He turned to me and smiled assuredly– not a trace of doubt behind those words he had spoken. The strength he felt was contagious, and in that moment I knew I was ready to face anything college life would hand to me.

I turned around and left in pursuit of a psychology degree from Central Michigan University after that day. I left not only my dreams of being an artist or a writer behind… I left you.

..And you were right there when everything fell apart.

Because you love me… I can be.

 

   *        *        *

 

Gregory and I met in junior high. We were 11 or 12 at the time, and as preteens tend to be… I was wrapped up in myself all too much. So it wasn’t until our senior year of High School that I truly appreciated him.

You broke down my walls.

My boyfriend of four years left to attend Michigan State University and halfway to graduation I discovered he was cheating on me. We had been in marching band together… and a majority of our friends were shared between us and gotten through the music program. Shocked by the revelation, my friends stayed silent and gave me space… unable to find the words to comfort me.

Of course this is the last thing I wanted… feeling lonelier than I had felt since puberty first hit, but it is how it happened. Shortly after, my grandfather died. And after that… my uncle passed, only in his forties after a two year long struggle with overcoming addiction tired him to his end.

 

  *          *         *

 

And you were the only one who approached me.

Every day, Gregory would come to my locker after the final class bell rang. Every day, he would ask me to walk home with him. And every day, the loneliness faded further and further away.

He wasn’t like everyone else I had met. He was sincere… unafraid to look into my eyes, call me out on my lies, and speak honestly and rawly about the pain I was feeling. I had never had anyone care for me so purely, and I had absolutely no idea how to respond to it.

So we spent a few hours each day after school together, but never dared speak aloud the words that captured what we meant to each other.

 

*         *         *

So when the time came to pursue our futures, I left with the girl I called my best friend to chase a degree she loved since I had been told time and time again that nothing good could come from my passions besides a hobby. And eventually… my fake reality came to an end.

” You never made me happy!” she shouted

“Please don’t leave” I pleaded in the middle of campus square as she turned her back on seven years of friendship.

“Or you’ll what? Kill yourself because you’re so miserable!? I wish you would… this world would be abetter place if you did.”

And just like that started the longest bout of soul searching and pain I had ever encountered.

It took only a week to realize I didn’t want to be there without her… and that I wanted nothing to do with psychology. Not to mention, the college campus I had once looked at as a beacon of hope for my future now stood as a grimacing and haunting reminder of a past I could never return to.

I dropped out of CMU and came back home to pursue a degree in arts and storytelling. I could not have prepared myself for how simultaneously painful and liberating the journey ahead would be.

*         *         *

Yet as soon as I needed you… you appeared. 

Despite the fact that I had taken him for granted and left him behind… Gregory was right there to confide in and comfort me through yet another crisis. And there he stayed, by my side through 5 boyfriends and more premature deaths than a family should encounter.

After years of being my best friend, Greg came out to me as being gay. Terrified that I would never think the same of him again, I hugged him and for the first time felt like I could finally return even a sliver of the comfort he had provided to me throughout the years. That same night I admitted that my feelings for my old best friend extended past those of friendship and that it took me loosing her to figure it out.

From then on, our conversations deepened and so did our friendship. As time passed, I discovered that my feelings for Greg had grown immensely and that I desired to be more than just a friend. But knowing that this would not happen, I kept my feelings inside.

There were times I could no longer keep things inside, and I would end up blurting my feelings out like a klutz. I was sure that these times would scare him away… that my stupidity would ruin the best thing I had found in life. However, he never left my side. He simply told me not to apologize for my feelings and that it took more than that to scare him away.

You’re stuck with me

… he would say as if it was a curse. But it was and still remains the most comforting phrase he has ever spoken to me.

*         *         *

The passing of time revealed more than just memories made. As it turned out… wounds really can completely heal. Bitter memories can become sweet once again… and the impossible can happen.

Last year, during one of my blurts… Gregory revealed to me that he may have been wrong about his feelings towards me. He admitted that for about a year prior he had felt feelings similar to mine but had been too afraid to try to be together, thinking that it may not work out and could ruin our friendship.

So we gave it a try.

6 months ago we tentatively went into a new kind of relationship… and today we are inseparable.

He understand me like nobody else. With a personality torn by over 300 different characters, that’s saying a lot! I had never found anyone that could love every side of me and know them as well as I do. But today I have found that. He lets them live… and because of that I am free.

With a promise that we will be with each other forever, I am able to face my days with more happiness than ever before. Together, we grow and support each other the the best and worst of times.

I feel so blessed to have Gregory in my life.

…because you love me, I can be. 

Always yours

~Fioza

(Gregory will be joining Talking to Myselves as an author of the page as well, since we write together after all. I look forward to the dynamics he will bring and can’t wait for you to meet him!)