Dear Pepper is an advice-column comic by Liana Finck. If you have questions for Pepper about how to act in difficult situations, please direct them to dearpepperquestions@gmail.com. Questions may be edited for brevity and clarity.
Dear Pepper,
Do you ever get the feeling before bed that you just can’t be content unless you’ve put pen to paper that day?
Having an ongoing project, or thinking about its completion, calms my mind enough to fall asleep; without it, I panic. I wonder why I panic? I used to think it was because I wanted to leave art behind when I’m gone, but I don’t think that’s it anymore.
I think it’s more like I need to feel safe, and art is my safety so I must do it as much as I can. For this reason, I get angry when I have to go to work. How dare they keep me from my art? What do you think?
—N
Dear N,
I’d like to write to you from a place of greater wisdom and say that life isn’t all about art; life is about meaning (or something) and you can get that from things other than art.
But I️ am no wiser than you, and I️ agree: How dare your job keep you from drawing all day?
How dare your friends want to drop by and chat? How dare your family care so much about inane Mother’s Day festivities? How dare life require so much of you, when what you were born to do is sit in a corner of the room and watch and draw?
At least, that’s how I feel, and have always felt.
Sometimes, the only thing your job is good for (besides enabling you to eat and have a roof above your head) is to keep things clear.
I’ve never felt as delighted to draw as I do after a long stretch of pointless meetings. It’s an old feeling, the feeling of being trapped in an absurd little box, the knowledge that I must escape, and the marvellous conviction that I am strong and wily enough to do so.
I often wonder if the comfort of the trapped-free binary—which is deeply familiar to me from childhood—makes it good. I don’t know.
But it’s certainly simpler than the feeling of powerlessness one experiences when given an entire day, week, lifetime to make one’s art—and still not knowing exactly how to do it.
Chekhov famously referred to his writing as his mistress, his career as his wife. Then again, Chekhov, a doctor, seems to have got a lot out of his meaningful day job.
So, my advice: You quietly look for a job you dislike less. Or, then again, maybe not. There’s something to be said for a clear-cut dichotomy, and for not putting a huge amount of energy into making every single aspect of your life perfect. Anecdotally, I spent a good number of months last year renovating a house, packing and unpacking, and put my work on hold.
I’m glad that I️ get to live somewhere nice, but I’m looking forward to putting a little less energy into the life sector, and to giving myself more space to do my drawing. (P.S., I️ wrote this four months ago, just before having a baby and taking maternity leave!)
On an even more personal note, I loved reading your e-mail. I love knowing that there are people in the world who care about making things so much. I need to be reminded that I do, too.
Pepper
