tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-137587932009-01-12T10:08:30.189-08:00Rants and raves about the careers and lives of starving artists.Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00574438294207017933noreply@blogger.comBlogger41125This is an XML content feed. It is intended to be viewed in a newsreader or syndicated to another site.tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13758793.post-14372758889396252812008-05-30T09:58:00.000-07:002008-05-30T10:59:04.578-07:00

Maccaca is an online community of artists that provides an opportunity for artists with all kind of artistic talents. If you are a musician, photographer, painter, writer, actor, director, lyricist, or an artist with any talent then Maccaca is for you. Maccaca is an online museum of art that caters to to all artists and connosieur of art. Maccaca is completely free and as an artist you have the

Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00574438294207017933noreply@blogger.com0http://www.thepauper.com/2008/05/maccaca-cool-site-for-artists.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13758793.post-1141935654958675622006-03-09T12:15:00.000-08:002007-04-03T19:35:31.956-07:00

Should toothpaste made in India necessarily have a weird aftertaste? I found out that the annual refund I've grown so accustomed to in late spring shall not be entering my bank account this year. I actually owe money on my taxes. My father the accountant says I made more money last year and had less money withheld and thus: no refund for me. I had a plan for that money. I was going to pay off

Kathnoreply@blogger.com0http://www.thepauper.com/2006/03/and-poverty-continues.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13758793.post-1137450943188957662006-01-16T14:33:00.000-08:002007-03-13T18:23:52.730-07:00

For a recent article in a European music magazine, I was asked what drives me to compose music. It's a great question. What drives any of us to explore and develop our gifts. Have you ever wondered where this urge to express yourself comes from? My answer to the question was "I am just compelled to compose music. I feel that the true voice of God in us is the compulsion to create. The mysteries

Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00574438294207017933noreply@blogger.com1http://www.thepauper.com/2006/01/why-compulsion-to-create-makes-you.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13758793.post-1135702220670350812005-12-27T08:48:00.000-08:002006-01-05T16:39:03.393-08:00

I found myself trapped in a dark New York City basement recently where a sticky layer of alcohol coated walls decorated with the faces of Rodney Dangerfield, George Burns, Cheech Marin and other comedic has-beens -- also known as the New York Comedy Club. It was there that these eyes witnessed more disrespect and mockery of working artists that I could have ever imagined possible.

Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00574438294207017933noreply@blogger.com0http://www.thepauper.com/2005/12/how-thick-is-comedians-skin.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13758793.post-1132554994154543692005-11-20T22:22:00.000-08:002006-03-19T17:41:25.690-08:00

Trapped in the abyss Okay, now for the cathartic part, wherein I attempt to escape from hell by confronting the beast or, in this case, beasts of my day job past. So, without further ado, I'd like to chronicle in approximate order, the actual jobs I've endured over the years. Maybe you can relate. It all began during one hot as hell summer in Texas (symbolic, yes) at the age of 12. My job:

The Pauperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122456173643751556noreply@blogger.com4http://www.thepauper.com/2005/11/my-life-in-day-job-hell-part-two.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13758793.post-1131750082510820882005-11-11T14:56:00.000-08:002006-12-08T19:59:46.780-08:00

Part One: Into the abyss Recently, I've been thinking about day jobs. You know, those boring life-sucking gigs we as artists have to endure while we pursue our dreams. Of course, this got me thinking about my own experiences in day job hell over the years and, unfortunately, how I've yet to escape. Now I have to say, going back through the mists of time trying to recall all of these jobs has

The Pauperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122456173643751556noreply@blogger.com1http://www.thepauper.com/2005/11/my-life-in-day-job-hell.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13758793.post-1130128564851293192005-10-23T21:31:00.000-07:002005-10-24T22:45:31.603-07:00

Is it just me, or has entertainment in recent years been really sucking? Specifically, I'm talking about American entertainment, and its movies, music, and television in particular. Now I'm not one those people who bashes the younger generation's scene just for the sake of it. I consider myself pretty open-minded, and willing to give just about anything a shot. But something's gone amiss recently

The Pauperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122456173643751556noreply@blogger.com0http://www.thepauper.com/2005/10/american-mediocrity.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13758793.post-1128970758690408122005-10-10T10:46:00.000-07:002005-10-10T11:59:18.770-07:00

Until yesterday, I had exactly a buck seventy-six in my checking account. That's $1.76. Yes, indeed. I continue to look for a second job but it seems everything I could do would potentially require additional training, which costs money or would involve unpaid labor on my part, or is a union position, the entry requirements for which are unknown to me. I went to bartending school a few years ago

Kathnoreply@blogger.com1http://www.thepauper.com/2005/10/ah-poverty.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13758793.post-1128089315563613942005-09-30T07:05:00.000-07:002005-09-30T07:09:01.243-07:00

I've been traveling along Freelance Alley for several years, performing an assortment of odd jobs, subjecting myself to roommates who'd I'd otherwise not have dealt with it, and living without health insurance. I've worked uptown and downtown Manhattan, a brief stint in a hospital in Queens, New Jersey, and Connecticut as a full-time employee. As a freelance worker, I miss seeing

ScribeNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10445661096191578896noreply@blogger.com0http://www.thepauper.com/2005/09/freelance-alley.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13758793.post-1127967092763850692005-09-29T00:10:00.000-07:002005-09-28T21:11:32.783-07:00

I believe I was born to guide, mentor, and teach. I'm the oldest of three brothers, and from my earliest memories, I've been in the role of emotional and spiritual counselor. Family relationships are different from friends and colleagues, yet the roles have always been the same. I have taught computer technology and software applications, which I wouldn't want to do ever again. The people

ScribeNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10445661096191578896noreply@blogger.com0http://www.thepauper.com/2005/09/joy-of-teaching_29.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13758793.post-1127958183376373442005-09-28T18:42:00.000-07:002005-09-28T18:43:03.380-07:00

Life in New York requires a tax account, a psychologist or psychiatrist if one requires medication, and boundless patience. When I relocated to the East Coast several years, I experienced sticker shock when shopping for food or clothes, and especially paying the rent for a less than perfect apartment. I live uptown Manhattan, at the end of Central Park West, near St. John's The Divine

ScribeNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10445661096191578896noreply@blogger.com0http://www.thepauper.com/2005/09/cost-of-living-in-new-york-city_28.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13758793.post-1127875848319343302005-09-27T19:49:00.000-07:002005-09-27T20:08:21.056-07:00

My creative flame is flickering lately and it concerns me -- mostly because it's something I've always been able to push through. There's always been the workaholic in me that finds another way to keep the adrenalin flowing so my production never slows. It's just that it's been about 12 months now that I've been giving all of my soul to this creative project that I was sure would have seen

Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00574438294207017933noreply@blogger.com2http://www.thepauper.com/2005/09/wondering-when-dry-spell-will-end.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13758793.post-1127189022338429052005-09-19T21:01:00.000-07:002005-09-19T21:05:27.290-07:00

Note: The diary entry below was actually started last night, but I didn’t quite finish it, and trying to recapture the moment to give it that extra punch has so far alluded me. This is due to the fact that a student of mine, at my day job of course, decided to have a complete meltdown this morning by attacking me (kicking, screaming, yanking several strands of hair out of my head, etc.), which

The Pauperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122456173643751556noreply@blogger.com0http://www.thepauper.com/2005/09/loboto-me.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13758793.post-1126597728441670552005-09-13T00:44:00.000-07:002005-09-29T16:28:39.863-07:00

Okay, I'm feeling sorry for myself tonight. Why? I'm so glad you asked. For starters, I just looked at my bank balance. I'm completely broke. I work my ass off all year at two, count 'em, two day jobs to make ends meet, and I can't even do that. On top of that, my imaginary career has stalled indefinitely. Yeah, I'm a writer. A screenwriter to be exact. In other words, I'm a loser. Please shoot

The Pauperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01122456173643751556noreply@blogger.com2http://www.thepauper.com/2005/09/please-shoot-me.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13758793.post-1125855486186172902005-09-04T10:27:00.000-07:002006-02-04T14:23:14.973-08:00

With limited resources and trying to think of something significant I could do to extend aid to victims of Katrina, I've thought of one hare-brained idea. I'm confident that, if it has major weaknesses you all will help me identify them. But, if it's a halfway decent idea, you might also help me figure out how I, and possibly you on your own, could make it work. My wife and I have donated a tiny

Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00574438294207017933noreply@blogger.com4http://www.thepauper.com/2005/09/how-can-starving-artist-help-hurricane.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13758793.post-1124384113675404562005-08-18T09:54:00.000-07:002005-08-18T09:55:13.680-07:00

Logging into an online writing and or publishing chatroom can be detrimental to a new or struggling writer's ego. When I first discovered mIRC.org's Writing chatroom several years ago, I thought I'd be among writers of varying skill sets, and perhaps there would be a few seasoned (published) writers offering feedback and guidance. The reality fell far below my perhaps naïve expectations. I

ScribeNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10445661096191578896noreply@blogger.com0http://www.thepauper.com/2005/08/poison-pen.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13758793.post-1123261222809699462005-08-05T09:55:00.000-07:002005-08-05T10:03:25.300-07:00

Separating from oneself, standing or sitting, watching as the the body and soul seemingly part ways. Standing in the kitchen while cooking, watching as the steam rises from the pot of boiling water - one more night of pasta. Or perhaps the sizzle of ground beef in a non-stick skillet is enough to set the mind wandering. The cat coils between the kitchen chairs, meowing, rolling over onto her

ScribeNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10445661096191578896noreply@blogger.com0http://www.thepauper.com/2005/08/bad-patch_112326122280969946.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13758793.post-1122948158990903042005-08-01T18:55:00.000-07:002005-08-01T19:02:38.996-07:00

Forgive me up front. No rant today. I’m deep in the digital wars as artist and theorist. This blog will consist of reports from that front....Here’s what I think is the single most surprising thing about digital art. People on the outside think there’s this ONE weird new thing loose in the world. In fact, that one thing has quickly fragmented. There’s already a dozen kinds of digital art.

Digital Universehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06798734027910922241noreply@blogger.com0http://www.thepauper.com/2005/08/digital-universe.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13758793.post-1122116098712954242005-07-30T03:34:00.000-07:002006-12-27T19:16:26.910-08:00

Creative types arrive in New York City by bus, train, plane, or carpool to make their mark in The Arts. Many artists fall into careers as waiters or graveyard shift word-processors in hopes of flexible employment that allows time for auditions and meetings with power brokers. Too far away from their original goal of illuminated names on Broadway marquees, a book deal, or a revolving show at a

ScribeNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10445661096191578896noreply@blogger.com0http://www.thepauper.com/2005/07/jack-of-many-trades-master-of-few.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13758793.post-1119051437481295672005-07-29T16:36:00.000-07:002006-04-17T01:20:58.716-07:00

Here's a rant for ya - I'm completely and utterly exhausted with this so called 'reality television.' When did when we as a society begin to lower our standards to remotely consider this entertainment? It must be some form of guilty pleasure. At least the Romans made you watch in person. Oh, and by the way - it's everything but real. Nothing real about it. Sorry. Rock Star, Queer Eye for the

Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00574438294207017933noreply@blogger.com6http://www.thepauper.com/2005/07/reality-television-sucks.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13758793.post-1122228621241119182005-07-24T11:08:00.000-07:002005-07-24T11:16:19.590-07:00

I’m sorry, I know your birthday is next Friday, but I will be working out of town until Sunday. Oh, also, that vacation we had planned? It sounds like I might have to stay in town because of a job I am on, so I will not be able to do that either… This is my life, and nobody outside of the entertainment world understands it. The last time I took a planned vacation with several other people

Kellyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08179000451734095425noreply@blogger.com1http://www.thepauper.com/2005/07/i-need-vacation.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13758793.post-1122065574699568142005-07-22T13:37:00.000-07:002006-04-01T21:48:36.746-08:00

So, in a neverending quest to get out of the debt that I accrued in acting school and in the years since, I continue to hunt for a second job. I interviewed for an evening information position at the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender Community Services Center. Although I don't identify myself as gay, I'm gay enough that I'd attended some meetings at the Center. Mary, a woman with a

Kathnoreply@blogger.com1http://www.thepauper.com/2005/07/just-not-gay-enough.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13758793.post-1121959485981851532005-07-21T08:24:00.000-07:002007-01-22T02:51:33.710-08:00

Writers can be a lazy bunch. A few years ago, I co-founded and participated in a mixed genre critique group that met in member homes throughout the five boroughs. This group was ripe with competition, envy, and discontent. There were prolific writers skilled in basic and advanced writing techniques, who provided pinpoint feedback, and others who were limited by their reliance on pop culture and

ScribeNYChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10445661096191578896noreply@blogger.com0http://www.thepauper.com/2005/07/writers-life.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13758793.post-1121812288215614362005-07-19T15:24:00.000-07:002005-07-19T15:31:28.223-07:00

I was 12 years old and really bored one summer when I found a book on European impressionist on my mother's coffee table. I sat down and started leafing through the pages unaware of what I was going to find. What I saw caught me completely off guard, like a light coming on in the middle of the night. It was one of those defining moments that changed the way I looked at the world forever. I had

Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00574438294207017933noreply@blogger.com0http://www.thepauper.com/2005/07/defining-moment.html