Living Creatively: One Year of Freelancing

Lately, it feels like there’s been a lot of writing going around the internet about creativity, stability, and risk.

Most people’s opinion seems to be that you can’t have the first quality without the third, and you can’t have either of them if you want the second. No creativity without risk, no stability if you want to live a creative life.

What does that have to do with this little blog I’m writing, this freelance adventure I’m trying to live?

Well… everything.

As a part of the millennial generation, I think I’m particularly susceptible to this discussion of creativity, risk, and stability.

I finished undergrad in the middle of the Great Recession and launched myself into the adult world in the midst of one of the worst job markets in decades.

I was luckier than most — I’d worked my way through college as a consulting political researcher, and I was able to keep doing that for the next year on my own schedule while also working as a member of a dance and theatre company. It was incredibly satisfying — reliable work and creative fulfillment.

When I first moved to Philadelphia, I left behind my cushy consulting job and found myself unemployed for six months — not a particularly fun situation. I did what many creative people were doing at the time: collected a series of part-time jobs that never quite added up to a full-time income, but definitely added up to more than full-time hours, all while trying to find time to act and dance and write.

I was overwhelmed, and exhausted, and unable to get ahead either financially or creatively.

I had dozens of artistic friends tell me that that was how it was always going to be — you can’t pursue your creative passion and expect to have financial security. (“Real actors never have IRAs” one friend informed me disdainfully when I giddily confessed I’d just opened one.)

I had dozens more concerned family members tell me that I’d have to give it up eventually — you can’t get ahead in life if you want to live creatively. (“Stability is more important than creative satisfaction,” they said, never challenging the assumption that you could have both.)

But I don’t believe for one second that my only options are starving artist or corporate nine-to-fiver.

In fact, I refuse for those to be my only options.

That’s why I freelance, why I’m creating my own business on my own terms one day at a time.

This fall will mark the one-year mark since I went freelance full-time. If you were following along then, you probably remember that I went about making the switch in the least advisable way possible.

But what I realized then, and what I believe now, is that sometimes you have to make a dramatic change. Sometimes, that’s what your life needs if you don’t want to find yourself stuck permanently in a miserable situation, too scared to make the big step that will take you where you want to go.

Yes, it can be hard to figure out. I’ve made a ton of mistakes along the way. I’ve had months when I was on top of the world… and months where it felt like everything was falling apart.

The only thing harder than clocking time on someone else’s schedule every day is knowing you’re the only one in charge, that every success or failure comes down to how much effort you’re willing to put into it.

But to me, it’s worth it. I’m slowly figuring out what I want out of my life and work, and how to fit those two things together.

***

As I come up on that one year anniversary of my new job path (one year! How on earth did that happen?) I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want to do with my life, why I’ve chosen the path I’m on and where I want it to take me.

I want to live creatively.

Having a creative element to my life and my work is so important.

I’ve worked in an office, in retail, restautants, health care, and politics (having worked since I was 15, I have a pretty extensive resume). And I got out of those jobs because that world is not for me: it doesn’t fulfill, it doesn’t nurture. Some people thrive there, but I know myself, and I know I need to pursue creative endeavors in order to be happy and healthy. And, knowing that, I am determined to make a living from them.

I want to do work that is fulfilling.

I have a lot of diverse interests — writing, acting, dancing — and I want all of them to be part of my professional life.

Sometimes that means adapting: making a living from writing fiction is a long game to be sure, but in the meantime, I’m building up quite a business of copywriting and blogging clients, and those jobs both pay the bills and are creatively satisfying. Sometimes it’s hard to find theatre and dance gigs, and when that happens, I turn to commercials and small film work. It’s a different sort of world, but one that fulfills just as much as being onstage.

I want to have room to grow and play.

Beyond those main areas, I have other avenues I want to explore, other interests I want to cultivate. I want to expand my freelance business to grow more revenue streams. I play the piano. I’m thinking about taking up painting. I want to travel more.

And I never want to tell myself, “You can’t do that, you don’t have time, that doesn’t make you money.” I don’t want to be locked into a path from now until I retire, afraid to try something new. I want space in my life to try new things, sometimes for profit, sometimes simply for fun. I want to have room to learn as I go.

I want to live more than I work.

Next month, I will be packing up and moving to Virginia for two and a half weeks to nanny my four-month-old niece while her father is out of town and her mother returns to work. If I worked a regular 9-5, or even if I were still juggling three part-time jobs, I would never have been able to do that.

Yesterday afternoon, once I finished my morning work and before I started on the next item on my to-do list, I took a break to read, nap, and play the piano. I returned to work refreshed and energized, with a thousand ideas clamoring to get out of my head. If I had to work on someone else’s schedule, I would never have been able to do that.

I don’t want to work for the sake of working, because it’s a status symbol to tell others how busy you are.  I want my life to be about experiencing, about living,  not working.

***

So that’s me, right now, reflecting on nearly a year of this adventure.

 

This blog may change directions a little bit over the next few months as I figure out some new directions, but I still want it to be a record of my discoveries and a resource for those looking to start their own freelance journey.

I’m still figuring out where it’s all going, the best way to make it work.

But that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?

That’s the adventure.

Are you coming?