Wednesday, December 4, 2019

That Artistic FIRE

After I wrote a piece on r/leanfire where I came out as someone capable of FIRE (financially independent/ retire early), albeit on a lean (under $40,000 a year -- um, in my case, much lower) basis. I wrote a follow-up piece where I talked about getting a gig as a studio teacher for a motion picture. While it sound much more glamorous than it is -- think being huddled near a space heater in a side room in an old farm house in rural Oklahoma -- I got the gig because I knew someone in the local art scene who knew someone else.  I may not socialize all that much, and I will do so even less now that I am on financial lock down, but I do tend to spend my time with artists.

When I look for inspiration, however, the successful practitioners of FIRE tend to come from STEM backgrounds. (Appears I'm using all sorts of four-letter words today!)  I can think of two reasons why STEM comprises so much of FIRE: 1) higher earnings 2) familiarity with measuring things quantitatively.  While the first factor is very important -- never underestimate the importance of resources, though those with resources might, ever confusing privilege with virtue -- it does not explain the first, and still my favorite, practitioners of FIRE I was exposed to, Jacob Lund Fisker of Early Retirement Extreme, whose income for the first leg of his financial journey was quite modest by American standards.  Instead, Fisker is a learning machine, able to rapidly pick up frugality skills and stick to a budget that is, well, extreme.  He has a mind well-suited to FIRE.

On the other hand, the artistic types I know tend to be bad with money.  A big part of it is explained simply by being American in a time where that means a multi-generation acceptance that "no one" has any savings.  Another part of the artist's problems with money is a disdain and distrust for numbers and wanting (or affecting) to be above worldly concerns.  If there is anything resembling a call to action in this piece, it is that it doesn't have to be this way: artistic people can be good with money. I want to see these two worlds bridged. It is my relative financial freedom that allows me to take artistic opportunities.  And art, broadly defined, is my best answer to the question of what to do with all the free time financial independence creates.  Paraphrasing a line from the movie Groundhog Day, I ask myself, at various levels of desperation, depending on my mood and the day, "what are you going to do with your eternity?"

Looking back at my second piece mentioned above, I'm surprised by my delirious passion.  Part of it was that dangerous social media buzz of getting a lot of likes for a piece -- one more reason to not have comments on this blog, where I now retreat in order to work on myself.  Another reason was the odd energetic lunging my mind goes through when my sleep schedule is knocked off, as it was for me to wake up at 3:30 AM in order to drive down to rural Oklahoma to huddle near a space heater in an old farm house so that I can now turn into a story to impress people and play 7 degrees of Kevin Bacon [myself > Nick Stahl in What Joshia Saw > Arnold in Terminator 3 > Kevin Pollak in End of Days > Kevin Bacon in A Few Good Men.]  It was in that delirium that I posted this list of things I thought I could do in the short-to-medium term:
  • Go through a friend of my wife to do seasonal tax preparation work.
  • Finish a "cutting" of Macbeth so that a friend of mine can produce it as a high school play.
  • Record lectures where I show how I can teach (say AP Euro, or things on literature). The goal is to eventually have some tutoring sessions be on ideas, rhetoric, or Great Books curriculum, not just the test-prep arms race
  • Read stacks of children's books so that I catch my wife on Goodreads, and beat her yearly total just this once. (Right now she's up 149 to 121).   [Update: 149 to 156]
  • Do my homework, receive my mentorship, and then start my tutoring business -- I'm willing to do test prep, while supplies (open slots on days I want to work) last.
  • practice sharpening blades and tools, such as wood planes. It's the next "self-reliance" skill I want to acquire.
And while all of those things are true enough -- with the tool sharpening being the one I feel I might procrastinate on the most -- I don't like how much it was performing . . , I think showing off.  Anti-social media is a hell of drug.

I have already read over twenty children's books to take the lead over my wife in the yearly Goodreads count.  I suppose I should add that my wife is a 6th grade (English) Language Arts teacher who is taking classes to become a librarian.  To stay current in her recommendations to students, the vast majority of books she reads are young adult literature.  Furthermore, this year she read 50 children's books for an annotated bibliography assignment. Me reading children's books is a subtle act of trolling, but also an attempt to inject into conversations (at, say, family gatherings) the idea that the quality of what is read should be taken into account.  I must also add that if I absolutely hated reading the books, I would have abandoned the project, seeing as self-discipline is not a strength of mine.  I like that children's books don't wallow in mean world syndrome, showing more maturity than entertainment fare I watch most adults swallow.  I've read books that promote imagination, going outside, enjoying the seasons, and even making sure you give a middle child special attention from time to time.  I had been working on my visual literacy and trying to learn how to draw, starting with cartoonish figures -- so I have appreciated the illustrations as well.

I am probably most excited about my Macbeth project.  If I can't come up with an idea better, I will expand on my Macbeth cutting in next week's writing.  The project has hit the point where I have to get it polished -- that last 20% that takes 80% of the time and energy, because there always has to be a flip side to the promise of the Pareto principal.  Hooray for those 80% gains from 20% of the input, but at some point, if you care about the product, there has to be grind.  But that's good for me.  It builds character, or at least keeps it from atrophying.  More on this later as well: I'm not made to be a drop-out (to be honest, I cracked up (eventually) on my sabbaticals), and I failed at being an honorary goldbricker. It looks like semi-retired is the best I can do.