The Artistic Odyssey: Navigating Passion, Paychecks, and Mental Well-being

How Losing My Job Highlighted My Love For Creating & The Need To Slow Down

Please be aware — this post contains gifs that flash colors. Consideration is advised for individuals with photosensitivities :)

Hey everyone! It's been a while since we caught up.

In my usual Vishaal style, I set out on a mission to put down more of the thoughts, musings, and quirky notions that frequently pop up in this peculiar brain of mine.

This is what my brain often looks like.

Alas, I hit a roadblock and stopped posting on here.

Why, you ask? Well, amidst the chaos of world events, political crises, and my struggles with mental health (half-joking, but really...), delving into discussions about art and the challenges of being an artist seemed, well, trivial.

Unimportant.

And to some extent, I still believe that. However, I've come to realize that there's a certain beauty in embracing the small and unimportant aspects of life.

So, here we go! Back to it.

A lot has happened since we last chatted. I moved, got a full-time job, built out my media company, went to far too many weddings, let go of old friends, traveled, gained new friends, put boundaries up with family, created more projects, and most importantly, as a Capricorn, Pluto just left Capricorn for quite a long time and that means…we’ll hopefully have some peace in our lives!

Today, I want to chat about the past few months of my life and the perpetual pursuit of becoming a full-time artist. All while contending with the harsh realities we often encounter: stability, money, and happiness.

Picture this: you're an artist, a creator of wonders, a visionary... and a part-time barista, dog walker, and weekend event planner. Ah, the glamorous life of pursuing your passion!

The other day someone said to me: “Your life seems so exciting and interesting.”

And I thought about it.

Spoiler alert: it's not always as dreamy as it sounds. Let's talk about the not-so-glitzy reality of being an artist, the toll it takes on mental health, and why sometimes you need to press pause and reassess the grand masterpiece that is your life.

Even in the midst of all this, I wasn't living the dream of creating and performing full-time. Part of it was the writer's and actor's strike, but let's be brutally honest—I just wasn't landing gigs. I continued to spin my creative wheels, churning out content and using my skills to create other projects. But alas, the bills weren't paying themselves.

Yet, there I was, staring in the mirror, pondering life's profound mysteries. If I know what makes my heart happy, why am I not doing it 24/7? It left me feeling like a disillusioned Tinkerbell, slowly fading away at the thought of not getting what I wanted or the attention I craved.

Childish? Perhaps. But hey, every artist dances with this existential waltz. It's the harsh reality of the industry. And it began to take a toll on my mental health.

However, this mindset served as a quirky reminder of my love for the work I cherish... when I actually get to do it. It’s grounding for me. It keeps me excited about life.

So, in the grand theater of life, I sought out a job that could foot the bills. It brought stability, offered a decent dose of satisfaction, and, most importantly, kept me from doing my best impression of Tinkerbell. Sometimes, you gotta do what you gotta do to keep the creative flames flickering.

But.

I recently found myself at a crossroads, careening into the abyss of unemployment, whilst also not being artistically fulfilled. If you've ever lost a job or been laid off, you know the mix of emotions: panic, despair, and an odd urge to take up juggling as a fallback career. I’ve only ever lost a job one other time in my life and was fully fired because I was sneaking off to auditions in the middle of the day. Not exactly a model employee, but I did book a lovely play out of it :)

Anyways…back to the present. And as an auditioning actor, you’re constantly told no and rejected so you’d think I’d be used to it by now.

But, no.

Amidst the job loss chaos, I stumbled upon a revelation - my side gigs were no longer just 'side' gigs; they were my life support.

I overworked myself. And I began to find myself doing a lot of things but creating art.

Now, let's get one thing straight. I'm not here to whine – I do appreciate the perks of stability. Health insurance, the exhilaration of splurging on Uber Eats from outrageously pricey restaurants, sipping on $25 martinis like I'm on a perpetual vacation. A savings account? 401K? Well, slap my paintbrush; who knew those were actual things? These are all the luxuries I signed up for, and I'm fully aware of it.

But, lo and behold, why wasn't I floating on a cloud of eternal bliss? Why did I morph into that irritating artist friend who's practically a professional eye-roller trigger? You know the type – the ones who claim to "live to create"? Yeah, we all roll our eyes at them, and somehow, I ended up becoming one. Go figure.

But here's the kicker: where's the time for my true love, my art? It's like having a hot date waiting at a bougie restaurant while you're stuck in traffic with a flat tire – not the best scenario. And you feel stuck. But you keep questioning…why do I feel this way? It feels very silly, right? But this is how I felt.

And then the company layoffs happened. And that stability that I had craved for such a long time, was gone. I had taken it for granted. I felt stupid. And like…where do I go from here?

Three months later, here we are. Bank accounts are dwindling, mental health is…well not great.

But this is not a post to elicit pity or sympathy. In the grand scheme of things, life’s great. I have family, friends, and a brain that’s savvy enough to keep me going. But I won’t lie, my mental health has taken a beating.

If I had a dollar for every time someone said, "Follow your passion, and you'll never work a day in your life," I'd probably have enough to pay rent without juggling jobs. The truth is, that pursuing your passion often means juggling more pins than a circus performer, and it can be overwhelming. It can be a plethora of emotions.

The constant hustle is real. The struggle to make ends meet while nurturing your creative soul can be draining. And let's not even get started on the self-doubt that creeps in when your art takes a backseat to bills. It's like a never-ending game of musical chairs, but the music is your sanity playing at 1.5x speed.

But also…sometimes when you book the DREAM project as an artist, it’s not all it’s hyped up to be.

Picture this: you finally snag those dream projects, and you're living the creative high. But then reality hits, and those sweet gigs don't pay enough to fund a decent coffee habit once taxes and agent/manager fees swipe their share. It's like, seriously, why does anyone willingly sign up for this rollercoaster of financial absurdity?

And here I am, standing amid this circus, wondering if there's a punchline I missed. Why do we do this? Your guess is as good as mine. I'm just here living the dream, or should I say, the dreamy illusion of making art without swimming in cash. It's my reality – the one where laughter and tears are interchangeable, and I'm still searching for that elusive answer.

But not all is bad.

Now, cue the dramatic pause.

Amid this chaotic symphony, losing my job became an unexpected intermission. It forced me to take a breather, reevaluate my life choices, and ponder the profound question: Is this what I want?

If you know me, you know I joke about having Beyonce-level ambition when it comes to my work. It’s true. It’s probably the Indian upbringing/mentality and constant need to be the best that while works in many lovely ways, it’s a detriment. My definition of success hasn’t changed since I was six years old and now that I’m in my 30s, it’s forced me to re-evaluate what this means.

Here's where the real talk comes in. Hustle is essential, but so is taking breaks. It's like hitting the pause button on a rollercoaster to check if you still enjoy the ride. It's okay to reassess, to question, to recalibrate. Your art deserves a well-rested and inspired creator, not an overworked zombie fueled by caffeine and desperation.

It’s about taking detours, trying new things out, and ultimately going with the flow. Something that I’m terrible at when it comes to my career.

This moment has forced me to pause.

And as I hit the pause button, my definition of success has undergone a profound transformation. It's not just about the shows booked or sold, callbacks made, or even the money earned. It's about using art to heal, to introspect, and to contribute something meaningful to the world.

God that sounds hokey and so ACTORY.

I KNOW. I’M ROLLING MY EYES WITH YOU.

But it’s the truth.

This unexpected moment has allowed me to ponder the kind of art I want to create – art that resonates with authenticity and carries the power to inspire and heal. It also forced me to think — do I want to even continue doing this? Because I often wonder: what would my life look like in a different profession and would it be any easier? I dunno. And what would I do if I weren’t in this business?

I don’t have a plan B but I also know that my mental health is struggling right now because of all the ups and downs. It’s hard to be present and remain happy because of this preexisting idea of success.

I find myself constantly self-assessing and thinking about these things that border on insanity. I miss family gatherings, and events, and sometimes forget to live life for what…the creation of art? It feels quite dumb, right?

Now I know there’s a portion of readers that are most likely thinking: please stop whining, Vishaal. Your life is great.

And trust me, I’m also tired of hearing my voice. I know my friends and therapist have heard a lot of these things already. And you’re right. Overall, in the grand scheme of things, my life’s great.

But hear me out.

While this may sound whiny and like I'm complaining, I don’t want that to be the case. It's more like that Insecure quote:

"I just wanna fast forward to the part of my life where everything is okay..." - Issa Rae

Balancing auditions, writing, creating, and figuring out how to run a company and searching for full-time jobs I don't even want, is undeniably frustrating. Dealing with family who constantly tells me to settle for any type of work doesn't make being creative any easier.

If I know the work I want to be doing and am doing everything I can to make it happen…why does it feel like it’s not enough? And all artists feel this way. It can be quite exhausting.

This moment in time has challenged me to think deeply. Will this ever happen for me? Does my art even matter? Where else do I find happiness? Do I need to reassess what my definition of success is? Why am I doing this?

But amidst the frustration, there's a silver lining – gratitude.

*Vishaal rolls his eyes as he writes this*

I know. Once again, it sounds contrived and like a self-help book by some white lady who thinks she invented yoga but is most likely a cult leader.

But here are are at…gratitude. It's tough, no doubt. Yet, taking the time to think about the things I'm grateful for has been a grounding force. I am grateful for the ability to create, for the support of those who believe in my journey, and for the chance to redefine success on my terms. There’s a lot of good in my life…so why do I forget about it? Why am I in a constant state of lack?

A psychic (my new therapist, apparently) pointed out to me that gratitude isn’t a strength of mine.

Oops.

Gratitude is really hard for me. I have found myself through this phase in my life questioning my place on earth and in society. I’ve found myself taking friends and family for granted. Getting upset with them for trying to help. Feeling more emotional. Feeling less grounded. Forgetting that I have so much good in life. Constantly comparing myself to those my age getting to do the things they love…why am I not there?

I’m 33. I’m not a kid anymore. So why does it feel like I’m still in the same place as I was at 22, having just moved to this city? Why does it feel like I haven’t evolved when I know that’s just not the truth?

It’s tough. I don’t have a solution or answers or a snarky remark. It’s just my weird, little truth.

So what’s the point of this? I dunno. It’s a ramble of sorts. Stability is important. The artist's journey is wild. And gratitude is key, I guess?

Let's embrace the humor in our struggles, acknowledge the reality of juggling, and be unapologetic in pressing pause when needed. An artistic journey is an odyssey, not a sprint. Take breaks, reassess, and come back stronger – because the world needs your unique masterpiece.

I’m still figuring all of this out. The amount of times my friends have told me to “chill out” is… a lot. They’re right. But for some reason, my brain and body haven’t allowed me yet. And maybe I haven’t tried hard enough, even though I tell myself I have.

Okay. I’m done. This was too long. I’m sorry.

Stay quirky, stay real, and never underestimate the power of a well-timed unemployment break.

Yours in chaos and creation,

Vishaal