I realized the other day that I have been living more or less hand to mouth for 18 years. I was supporting myself and paying for undergrad at San Francisco State in 1990. I have worked some pretty crazy jobs since that time.

I've been an illustrator, a carpenter, a sign shop employee, a preparator at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, a window designer, a graduate student, and often broke. It can cause some anxiety and be difficult, but purposely not having regular work has allowed me to make art my primary focus. It can be a brutal career choice, but it also can be the most rewarding work imaginable.

In 1996 I fished for salmon in Alaska with a captain who was a nice grandpa type, but occasionally he would transform, telling me about some guy who pissed him off. Before I knew it, he would snap and be swearing at me as if I were that guy, leaning into me, his face bulging and red, "I told that cock-sucker, listen here you son of a bitch…." Am I allowed to swear? There's good money in fishing - but all the captains are bat-shit crazy.

In 1997 I got an illustration job off of the CCAC job board. It was for greeting cards. This guy gave me a layout of the card he wanted illustrated. It said: "Son? There's something you need to know? Man didn't come from woman? But woman came from man?" The drawing was of him with a hooker standing in front of his son in the kitchen. I asked what was going on with the punctuation and he said the question marks looked nice. True. The inside said: "Every time daddy bring home a pretty lady, he always leave me a slab of ribs." He sold them to his church group. The nearest I could figure it was a religious justification for misogyny.

I went to graduate school at Alfred University in 1998 - tuition free. Those two years were a welcome break from the financial scramble.

I had a job in 2003 drawing for a children's book series, also found on the CCAC job board. I drew in the style of the previous illustrator who had come up with the characters - sort of a Scooby-do talking dog and his kid buddy. My boss was kind of a trip. He was always wound up - seemed like a cokehead. He claimed to have invented mountain biking. It was an odd environment, but he paid me $25 an hour to draw on a part-time basis. One day he asked if I had seen a pack of blue folders. I hadn't. He then accused me of taking them, saying "I just wish you would tell me you did it." I didn't. Right after that he offered me a steak in the company. Was that some kind of business strategy? I didn't go back after that day.

Over the years I have mostly supported myself through carpentry. I got into it in the early 90's and, in addition to a bunch of independent small jobs, I have been on a couple of legitimate crews doing start to finish home building. It is good work and the pay is decent. It is a nice counter to all the solo/cerebral art making. I enjoy working with my hands and it is very satisfying to make a place for people to live.

For the last two years I have made about 80% of my living directly from art through residencies, grants and sales. I still run into rough patches. I've been trying to get a large project funded. I think I'm getting warm. I might actually make a living at this some day.