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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.

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Selling Myself To Sell Others

That’s what getting sponsors is all about. We must be popular to get their support. We are providing the service of visibility. Although visibility takes hard work, it doesn’t give money by itself. Money comes from selling that visibility or any product derived from it. With some luck, the product itself increases visibility, the search for more products and the offers from more sponsors.

All over the Internet the gurus of blogging, vlogging, selling, writing eBooks and such give the same advices. Niching down, like the genres thing, providing services with “how to” articles, and chap-books are a must. It is all business. Forget artistic aspirations and soul fulfillment. You want sponsors? Be entertaining to the vastest possible audience. Follow trends and market rules. “Be smart instead of self-centered” is their motto.

No matter how hard I try, I am doomed to failure. Perhaps the role of agents and editors is to trim artists and sell what’s left. When an artist tries to be his own agent and editor, a routine of self-amputation is imposed upon him, compromising the flow of creativity. The censorship comes from the inside and that is severely violent. I don’t seem to be up to such endeavor.

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On Store Today (December 3, 2020)

Urban Art Bikini Swimsuit 6  Retro custom gift aesthetic image 0
Urban Art Classic Swimsuit 6  Retro custom gift aesthetic image 0
Urban Art Vintage Swimsuit 7  Retro custom gift aesthetic image 0
Urban Art One-Piece Swimsuit 6  Retro custom gift aesthetic image 0
Urban Art Bikini Swimsuit 5  Retro custom gift aesthetic image 0
Urban Art Classic Swimsuit 7  Retro custom gift aesthetic image 0
Urban Art Vintage Swimsuit 8  Retro custom gift aesthetic image 0
Urban Art One-Piece Swimsuit 7  Retro custom gift aesthetic image 0
Urban Art Bikini Swimsuit 7  Retro custom gift aesthetic image 0
Urban Art Bomber Jacket 20  Retro custom gift aesthetic line image 0

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Freelancing

A few days ago I signed up to a freelance platform. Now I made a proposal to be selected for a commission as an illustrator. The platform warns the users that usually they only get selected after their fourth or fifth proposal. Lets wait and see.

The work to be commissioned is exactly the kind I would like to do as a freelancer. A single illustration with specific instructions. I sure hope to comply to the demands of this potential client and it would be great if other commissions of this kind would appear.

Even greater would be having my work noticed and directly asked for. Quite a way of making a living.

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You Know Where The Cool Gifts Are

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The Prison Of Making Money

pexels-photo-3483098.jpeg

In order to get traffic to my Etsy shop and to this blog I watch videos and read articles from dozens of alleged gurus of the Internet. One thing all of them say is that one has to provide solutions for the needs of potential buyers or readers instead of exhibiting whatever one wishes to. From a commercial point of view, that’s absolutely right. A seller provides services and products to satisfy a clientele. “How to” posts and custom made items are the answer for consumer needs. What a bore!

Business, market and alike. Survival of the fittest. Popularity is the barometer, quality defined by the number of fans. If the purpose is the making of money, one becomes the manufacturer of commodities, not a curator of the exhibition of the human soul. It makes perfect sense. It sucks!

I suck! I am not cut for selling. I am an egocentric narcissist claiming to have artistic ambitions. I’m a believer of the universality of the human soul, with distinctive grades specific to each individual, sharing his own as a sample. This belief goes to the point of expecting recognition for my service to humankind. I show you my soul, you give me your money. Perfect megalomania.

I wish I knew the art of making money. Will I ever become an adult?

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The Digital Beggar

Monetize, monetize, monetize! That is all I can think about on this urge for life changing. The right column of this blog has an ever-growing list of my favorites from Amazon, there are widgets for WordAds and the plug-in for AdSense. I sell PDF files and subscriptions for exclusive videos. I propose donations to the blog. I also have the Etsy shop and music pages on Spotify and YouTube in the hope of getting my cut from viewings and ads.

The fantasy of making a living from drawings, sounds and stories is launching me on the quest for begging tools and strategies. Experts on these things present the schematics of the funneling tunnel and give advices on calling to action and finding out niches. Buttering up customers is said to be key in order to keep them coming on a regular bases. It seems being kind and polite is not enough. One must even meddle in social gatherings and networks, always recalling most high-stake businesses take place at the lunch table.

This universe is overwhelming to me. The requirement to beg and buttering is completely obnoxious to a person craving for freedom. I keep doing my best to accept trading games lightly, in spite of the chilling disgust that haunts me.