I doodled around looking at freeware fonts tonight, and discovered my stupid computer can't handle .zip files. I have to galump around looking for a way to get into the files I saved. There's a lot of good stuff out there, and I know it's art, but I can't afford most of it. So I'm going to find a copy of Fontographer, and start playing around with it. If I do anything cool, I'll start my own freeware page. I'm sure it's harder than it looks, though.
Late at night, sitting at the computer with one or the other of the cats in my lap, I muse about the possibility of making money at doing something I really like. I doubt I ever will. I never have before. I used to sing for a living, classical music, and I paid the rent every month, but I never had a lot left over, and I knew I wasn't destined to be an opera singer of repute. I didn't have the drive to be a rock'n'roll chick. And although I supported myself doing graphics for bands, and painting signs, and creating art for all kinds of advertisement, I never saw myself signing up for a corporate job as a designer. It's a bit pathetic. All this talent and no ambition.
I don't mind, most of the time. I found a career that lets me be fairly creative (sometimes positively psychic), and although it pays peanuts, it has terrific perks. Being a travel agent is interesting. It's steady. It's different every day. And I really believe travel is good for everyone. There's also so much information, and it changes all the time, that one can't become complacent. You never know it all. You couldn't possibly.
Still, sometimes I marvel at people who know what they want to do when they grow up. And at people who steadfastly pursue career goals. Do they ever sit and wish they could sit home with the cats, playing with fonts?