Form the "Don't you hate it when" department.

At work we have a meeting every Monday at 8:30 am which means ensuring I'm on time on what is basically the hardest day of the week to actually be on time. Today I did especially well, getting in with plenty of time to prep for the meeting and get my ducks in a row - so of course the meeting has been postponed until Wednesday.

This reminds me of being in university, knocking myself out to get a paper done on time and then having the due-date changed because no one else managed to finish on time. That used to bug the living shit out of me.

And just to make it worse I was planning to go take pictures of the Regenerator show at Sanctuary this Tuesday and now have to be up and sentient enough for a meeting Wednesday morning. Grr.

Perspective

Friday the Dow Jones Industrial Average dropped 390 points, today it is down about 300 points. In September 1929, on the record high prior to the "Black Tuesday" crash of October 29th, 1929 that heralded the Great Depression, total volume was 386 points. But while a 390 point drop is greater than the total volume of trade on any given day in 1929, it is only about 4% of the total volume of the market today. The drop in 1929 was in the neighbourhood of 60% on Black Tuesday, bottoming out at 10% of the 1929 peak volume by 1932. That would be the contemporary equivalent of a 5,500 point drop followed by a slow sinking to a total volume of about 900 points.

It's a shame they apparently don't teach math and history anymore. Things would be much less panicked on Wall Street.

Horrible Thought

What if this whole "white picket fence" thing is a means of avoiding being an artist? It could be a subconscious subversion, a means of preventing failure by preventing myself from even trying. As long as there isn't enough money or time, or I otherwise subvert my work (crappy workspace, what have you) I'm exhonorated from going anywhere with it all.

All along I've always come up with excuses for not showing, not producing more. Am I that afraid of failure? Only in a few brief periods have I let myself remove some of the obstacles and at those times I've been happier. There was the point where I first moved to Railtown Studios, when I have my solo show - that was a blast. There was last summer when I was working at the bank and temporarily dumped by Ivana where I was churning out paintings which I showed at the Gothique Art Show II.

I really have to think about this. What do I want? What am I afraid of?