I'm working on Ethan's dragon costume, cutting the wings out of cardboard and thinking over the logistics of fleshing them out and making them shiny. . . and I have that realization again that GODS I love my work. I really do. And I know that a life as an artist slash craftmaster slash hausfrau would be completely impossible without Jason.
He works a job that doesn't feed his soul so that I can work a job that does. Is that fair? No. But he does it, and if he feels any resentment on the subject I have yet to see a hint of it. So here's an interesting internal dilemma: Should I be wracked with remorse because he pays all the bills and I get to do what I love and he doesn't? Or does that tarnish the gift he's giving me?
Is it possible, in our culture, with our programming, to feel pure gratitude without mucking it up with guilt? And if not, can I transform that guilt into something useful? Determination to use my time well, for example. A drive to make the best meals and paintings possible.
A gorgeous pair of dragon wings.
He works a job that doesn't feed his soul so that I can work a job that does. Is that fair? No. But he does it, and if he feels any resentment on the subject I have yet to see a hint of it. So here's an interesting internal dilemma: Should I be wracked with remorse because he pays all the bills and I get to do what I love and he doesn't? Or does that tarnish the gift he's giving me?
Is it possible, in our culture, with our programming, to feel pure gratitude without mucking it up with guilt? And if not, can I transform that guilt into something useful? Determination to use my time well, for example. A drive to make the best meals and paintings possible.
A gorgeous pair of dragon wings.