Dear Capitalism

I’m caught up in you.

For survival purposes, I have entered into the cog machine full time. Although I love my position, it has its concerning points. Like having young people in close quarters indoors for long periods of time.

With staff gone periodically due to health concerns, and students gone to due to the same issues, I’m left to believe that you never really cared about our health.

Physical and mental health.

By the end of everyday, I’m exhausted by being constantly under anticipation. Hanging on the edge of my seat, ramping up my sympathetic nervous system.

I look forward to the weekends in where I don’t have to think about the chaos of capitalism and job positions that make you want to run away and hide under a rock.

And although the times on the weekends are the only times I get to rest, recover, relax, and fill up my self care bucket list for the week, it doesn’t leave room for much artistic generation for an undiagnosed neuro-diverse person.

I’m eagerly waiting for the 3 months during summer that I get to myself to churn out my artistic endeavor. I guess this is a blessing in disguise that makes way for a more time-constrained period of art-making. Maybe this is what I as The Artist needs to experience in my next level as The Artist.

From Project 1, to Project 2, to Project 3, to Project 4, I can’t help but to have plenty bouts of sleepless nights, day dreaming, and nervous anxiety around getting these things done.

That’s where I am right now, due to you, Capitalism. You’ve seeped insidiously into the ways in which I even make my art. On the clock. Honestly it makes me sick. But, if it’s the way that art needs to be produced right now, then so be it.

One day the Art will make way for the ending of a dependence on capitalist positions. Until then, a gentle FU.

Regards,

The Artist


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