Heads up: everything in the next section I am about to write is bullshit. Don't know why you'd read after that glowing endorsement, but maybe a few of you have a little Pandora in you and want to know what's in that box labeled 'Bullshit' ...
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The world is for the young. If you're of a certain age and you haven't already established your reputation, you didn't really want it enough, did you? If you're of a certain age and you need or want to start over, you're only embarrassing yourself. You're set in your ways. You can't learn anything new. What could you possibly have to say that's interesting? You're old.
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If you are young (we'll define 'young' for our purposes as under the age of 27 --sounds like a nice even number) and think any of the above, then you are setting yourself up for a great big load of disappointment in your later life, guaranteed. You think you know, but you have no idea.
If you are old (28 and up) and think any of that, then stop it. Seriously. Stop. I'm talking as much to myself here as to any of you.
The world (another term we need to define --I'm in the US, and as everyone knows, we're the center of the universe in our own minds, so what the hell, we'll go with that) prefers the young. We love the precocious. We love prodigies. We loved Coreys Haim & Feldman until they grew up. We do not love messes or baggage or anything other than unbridled enthusiasm on shining faces. If there is a mess, it had better be young and hot and cute because ew.
That doesn't mean the world is right. It means the world likes things wrapped up in neat little packages.
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Fuck neat little packages --seriously, fuck them. They're just fancy boxes, aren't they? And fuck the world if it can't handle a mess without calling for it to be taken away.
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Despite the angry tone to all of that, I am actually feeling pretty hopeful.
I've written before about coming late to art and expressing myself. Extensively. Seriously, that sums up about 1/3 of my blog posts, you're welcome --no need to read now. In my explorations into what to do with what I've figured out about my creativity, I've looked up "okay, now what?" and have been greeted with a gaggle of young faces (or faces that may look like mine, but with a long list of credits tattooed on them). It can get discouraging. Baggage weighs me down.
I can't put the baggage down. It's like a scar --I've earned it. It's my baggage. I can carry it smarter, though. I'm all about ergonomic solutions at this stage.
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What people aged 28-108 can contribute to the world and to the arts:
- Breadth --life experience is, in fact, experience, and we have more of it
- Perseverance --think Keith Richards (we are all Keith Richards)
- Leadership --a lot of us have had kids, so we've had to learn to lead
- Patience --again, we've had kids
- The Ability to Spot and Call Bullshit --speaks for itself
- Resources --we get jobs while trying to figure stuff out, and we're cantankerous enough to work and create (yes, at the same time)
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Do not preemptively assume that you have nothing to contribute to the arts. You have a lot to contribute --what that is may remain to be seen, but you have a lot to contribute. Use your well-earned patience. Persevere, because you know you can do that (Keith Richards lives!). Spot the bullshit, both what the world lays on you and what you lay on yourself. Now is the time. It wasn't before, and that's okay, because you were learning to get to where you are now.
Don't buy the old bullshit. You're not old, you're mature. Now go make whatever the hell you want.
And Happy 2018, when it comes.
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