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IT’S 3 AM

I’m still obsessed with making money online. I paused my Etsy shop and created a new one here, on this site. There’s a link on the menu.

The site is also optimized for Google Adsense, and ads keep coming up. I am on Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn and Twitter and some viewers come along now and then, but far from being enough. None of them turned into a customer for my services as an illustrator nor purchased something from my store. The only useful page in this site has been the Portfolio, which link I send to potential customers from the Zaask freelance platform. They like my work and make business with me.

I have some regular readers from the WordPress community. That feeds the ego when they’re sincere, but it means nothing for my pockets.

I’m considering giving up any expectations of making money through blogging. I will focus on sharing CHRONOS and hope for nothing in return. Money is to be found somewhere else.

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Real Estate Comic Ad #2

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Real Estate Comic Ad #1

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Ad Experiment

Image may contain: text that says "Não consegue vender ou comprar casa? Fale comigo. 919163460 nneves@htailors.com NUNO NEVES CONSULTOR DE NEGÓCIOS HOME TAILORS REAL ESTATE"

I decided to use my wallpapers on ads for my services as a real estate business consultant. In case they prove to be appealing I will conceive wallpapers specifically for that purpose, as it happened with some of the illustrations for the items on my Etsy shop.

One important issue is the fun I’m having with this. There is joy in the process and that is new to me. The freedom to use my aesthetic creativity to generate income gives me a sense of purpose and achievement. This is quite challenging for someone raised to hate money.

Self-employment or business owning is radically different from being an employee with a regular salary. One has to be proactive and in a state of alert for business opportunities to get food on the table and a roof to live under. Instability becomes the daily routine. I am hoping to get used to it and have fun in the process of watching my abilities being useful, both as a service and as generators of wealth.

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I Can’t Sell A Damn Thing, And I’m Not Sure If I Want To

I’m really not good at this. Commerce is not my thing. The blog and the Etsy shop are only a desperate attempt to find an alternative to my soon to be abandoned job. I’ve been doing my best to leave in style, that is, without a gap between sources of income, but that is not going to happen. People like my stuff but only very few actually buy items. I find joy when people appreciate my designs and writings, but appreciation is not enough to make a living.

My job prospection feverishly continues with no results to date. Things were already bad before the pandemic. This is not unexpected. I held the fantasy of creating my own job, either through the Etsy shop, this blog or the freelance platforms. Nothing seems to work. I’ve been spending all my energies on becoming a commercial asset at the expend of creativity, but the sacrifice is useless. I now realize more clearly how ancient this effort is and to what extent it stole my life from me. It is at least as old as my professional career, which I intended to leave as soon as I would find myself able to survive as an author.

Things would have been much easier if my professional occupation was not such a violent and weary one. I had the naivete of believing that my love for learning and explaining as well as the importance I give to education would make me an inspiring teacher. I had my moments of success, among peers, students and parents, and some of the utmost dread. In time I reached to the point of burning out. I am totally uncapable of getting back to the classroom, no matter how I hold children in my heart. It is just too much for me. I gave my best until nothing is left.

All I want is a quiet job that doesn’t make me think too much and with enough wage too pay my bills. I’ve been applying for jobs such as warehouse operator, picking and delivery operator, supermarket operator, distribution driver, shop assistant and what not. Refusals succeed, but I still have hope.

I have this tendency to share my thoughts to the public as if they have some interest or value to others. I display my life craving for love. This vanity or personality cult is an awful thing, a weakness still out of my control. Advertising about my shop and blogging to attract potential buyers only make it worse. You have no idea of how much I long for the quiet simple job and the return to my cocoon of creativity, out of worries around commercial success and artistic recognition.