I had an extended period of unemployment late last year. I had recently earnt up enough money from a terrible Kmart job to not have to worry about setting myself up in a new state and promptly quit. All I had was my comic. Every day I'd absent mindedly search online for jobs related to my degree, but for the most part I was at my desk, drawing for myself, alone. I’m lucky to be relatively young enough to not have a family or mortgage to support or anything like that.
It’s weird – I remember this period (last year!) as very productive and nostalgic. My girlfriend remembers the time as utterly unbearable. I was sore about not having a job and I was working to change that, but I relished the chance to just work on what *I* wanted to do. Often I was only grumpy about my situation when I was getting the inevitable ‘What do you do?’ question at social or family events.
I think societal pressure (or just plain having a partner) is what forces the ball and chain of employment more than anything intrinsic within ourselves. I don’t see anything wrong with working fulltime in my ‘money-making’ role at 60 just as long as I’ve kept on the saddle and have an extensive body of artistic work behind me.
I think this topic is an important reminder about why we shouldn’t devalue our art and writing to valueless commodities. When we say that it’s the act of creation is important, not any monetary value assigned to that artistic creation, that’s when we doom another artist to having a pointless 9-5 job fuelled by fear, rather than give them the freedom to embrace that yearning to stay home and draw.