Upon learning that I have no television set, someone offered me one of their spares, which I turned down because I’d never watch it. Poverty wasn’t the moving cause of what many people would consider a lack. I just don’t want one. Theres not a need. It would never get turned on or if it did, I would feel too guilty for waisting what little time I have staring at it. Time is too valuable.

A year ago I was just getting started with some software products that have become essential tools now that I’ve figured out how to extract value from them. One is Adobe Lightroom, but I’ve hit a snag with no obvious solution. Funny how that works. I was just fine without Lightroom not so long ago and now it’s standing between me and progress because it will not work. The forums point to network and file permissions, but after tweaking them fully I fear I may have no security at all on my workstation. Permissions can be ruled out at this point.

The preference files have been rebuilt. The program has also been reloaded and thereby repaired and I’ve gone through all the settings I can find.

Now I’m researching alternatives for what Lightroom did so well, since it is totally and absolutely and unambiguously worthless from a practical standpoint.

I’ve downloaded Gimp.

With or without Lightroom I’ve got to get back in the saddle.

That has been a distraction, but it’s not been the biggest distraction keeping me from the studio:

For nearly a quarter century I’ve worked by day (and sometimes into the night or all weekend) in a small company where I keep the software, the network infrastructure, and to some extent the employees happy.

For the second time I’ve gone in to the boss anticipating the end of our working relationship. In 1997 it was because another company was attempting to lure me away and this time we had serious disagreements about acceptable practices.

His response surprised me. He wants me to stay.  We covered a lot of ground in long discussions.

I’ve already spent a great deal of time going over the facts that increasingly supported good reason to part ways with the company. My only question was whether I should just go or if it he preferred that I stay on long enough to train a replacement. Truth is, a replacement would be unlikely based on our experience over the years. Instead, the operation would have to be restructured along more conventional lines so that the mix of talent and skill that I bring would be unnecessary so I told him he’d be better off without me if he was willing to do that.

Niether question got answered. Instead, I was earnestly pressured to abandon my exit.

During the discussion, I was offered vague concessions and assured that my contributions to the company are esteemed highly. He doesn’t want to imagine the company without me there. 

When I mentioned that without regard to the outcome of our discussions I expected art to play a large role in my future, he realized I was not seeing the obvious flaw in my desire.

He recommended that I go visit homeless shelters. There, I would presumably see the bleakness of my future without the company and as an artist.

It was classic!

There are statistics, and they mean something to historians and prognosticators. But statistics mean nothing in individual circumstance. If half the marriages fail, that has no bearing on individual circumstance. What matters is that yours succeeds.

If most wannabe artists fail to prosper at it, that has no bearing on whether I do or do not prosper.

Men my age have little to hope for in the job market statistically, but I am not an aggregate number. So rather than quash my now intensified interest in making my way as a commercial success in the arts, his classic revelation of it’s hinted futility only spurred me on.

Maybe I will fail and maybe more than one time. One of the purposes of time is give chances for one to risk success (failure is no challenge, it’s a default)

But mark this: a man who isn’t sure that life will accept his offering and gives up because the odds seem stacked against him does fail. No one else is me. So why stand down?

I’m a child of God. He’s a creator. What if he stood down? How many of Him are there?

So much for statistics.

Now, back to Lightroom. There must be a solution, I simply haven’t found it yet.