The Army of Dreamers

Since moving to Chicago, one of my major goals has been to seek out and befriend self-employed artists and creative professionals, to form a core group of local friends who understand the particular issues that we face. While I have, of course, met many photographers, and a handful of illustrators (and, of course, Priceless Pearl, who is about as dedicated to her career in entertainment as you can get), the problem that I run into time and time again is that these types of people don't have any time to hang out.

How, then, can I assemble my army of dreamers, the latticework of tenuous yet vital support and exterior perspective?

Perhaps my base assumptions are wrong. Perhaps I should seek them in the same way I have sought the more normal sort of friends - by going to places and doing things that only professionals do.

.....

Which would be what, exactly? Artists don't need to go anywhere special to make art.

Anger management

Sometimes, I wish I was rich enough to be able to afford trashing my apartment while in the grips of a red hot fury.

Usually, though, I grab something with the intention of watching it smash into a thousand pieces and then think to myself, Hey, now. That cost thirty dollars.

Which pretty much kills the mood.

OKC

Man, I'm posting a lot today.

I checked my OKC account (it should be trivial for you to figure out what my username there is), and found several WTF reports waiting for me. Every one of them, my answers conflicted on this question:

If you inadvertently found a phone number in a partner's pocket, which would you do?

1. Call the number to see whose it is.


2. Openly ask what/who the number is for.


3. Nothing, I would trust my partner.


4. Nothing, my partner's privacy should be respected.

Out of seven women who thought I was interesting enough to ask for one of these WTF reports, ALL SEVEN answered that they would "Call the number to see whose it is" and ALL SEVEN wanted a partner who would choose a different answer.

America, take fucking note.