Intersecting Dreams and Business

Once I knew a teacher who had a dream to open a European-style deli, which she eventually did. The decor was perfect. The food was wonderful. What she hadn't taken into account was what her role would be in that dream. While the deli was everything she'd imagined, standing on her feet making sandwiches all day wasn't. And she hadn't anticipated just how much she would be tied to the restaurant. In many ways, her teaching gig afforded a much better lifestyle.

For years, I wrote novels. My goal was to create the feeling you get when you watch a 1940's movie. Something like Casablanca or Desk Set. Not too cerebral or clever...just little slices of how romantic love can transform ordinary lives. And while the quality of writing got me an audience with a couple of top agents and editors, the business portion had me denied. It wasn't the product they needed to put on the shelf. You know, the thing that filled the hole in their offerings.

It occurs to me that dreams and business have a twitchy relationship. Sometimes art and commercially-viable rocket to unprecidented success and sometimes very talented artists spend their lives in angst because they don't get to do what they love full time. Are there other options? Something between being a rock star and playing for free for friends in your living room?

This photo was taken by b.campbell65. It might surprise you after looking through the photographs to find out Bruce isn't a professional photographer. He is actually an attorney. (And as far as I know, not living in angst because he isn't pursuing photography full time.)

What if sometimes it is okay simply to have depth? To have vocations and avocations that aren't aligned. One of the most gifted musicians I know manages a storage complex. My most talented poet friend is a preschool teacher. If any of them transformed their art into a business, their day-jobs would suffer for lack of them.

Ever wonder if Thomas Kincade still enjoys painting? That strikes me every time I pass his showroom in a mall...
© Random Cathy
Maira Gall