What would I want to be doing in ten years’ time if I knew I could not fail? I guess it depends which definition of ‘success’ I’m currently clinging to. If we’re talking Gina brand success, I guess I’d have written and illustrated a series of children’s books that are as enjoyable for the adults reading them as the children being read to, I’d live and work in the same place, a bit removed from the hustle and bustle of the city but not too far to pop in every once in a while and see friends. I’d have a small showing room/gallery that I share with my husband, John, where he showcased his woodworking and I showcased artists’ work and held workshops or classes or tutoring sessions. I can picture the space now. Warm lighting, lots of many-paned windows, comfortable seating, lots of plants. It’s funny to me that the closer I get to living my life according to these values I’ve gained as I aged, the ability to make this type of space seems to grow more distant. The more I value time over money, the less money I have to take any next step. Being self-employed, it feels impossible to buy a home, let alone dream of a future store or gallery.

Then there’s reality-brand success. If I wasn’t self-employed and actually wanted to make a ‘real’ living supporting one or more children and owning our own home with money to take a trip or two a year, then I guess I’d want to do something where my artistic abilities could contribute to meaningful change. Why does it feel like everything necessary and good can’t afford to pay a reasonable salary above what a single fresh-out-of-college person might need to sustain themselves? Is this what is meant by “starving artist”? Am I just living proof that being an independent thinker in any era requires either coming from money or just totally surrendering the notion of a semi-comfortable life. Can someone pay me loads of money to paint animals and flowers or is that just asking way too much….

Just feeling a little conflicted today - got back from a trip to visit Barkha in Chicago a couple days ago. I went to a design convention with her coworkers where Debbie Millman spoke. It was really good, but also sent me into a deeper spiral of wondering whether my life would be that tree that falls in the woods with no one there to hear a sound. She said regret is the only human emotion that doesn’t metabolize. You take that shit to your grave. What if you’re so busy trying to come up with somewhere to dream about being that you never fully just accept and enjoy where you are. My life is good. In ten years’ time, I just hope my family is healthy, emotionally secure, and not homeless, and that I contributed to making all three of those things a reality.

g.g.