For the last 10 years I’ve been chasing a unicorn. I’ve seen it. I know it’s real. You can’t tell me it’s just a crazy dream because I am one of the privileged few people in the world who know the truth; it’s rare but it’s real. Parents tell their children, “chase something certain.” Guidance counselors tell students, “don’t waste your gifts on a myth.”
The myth is this – you can make a living making music. Songwriter Regie Hamm once suggested anecdotally that 1% of people who write music ever make a penny from their writing. Of that 1% only 1% ever make a living at it and only 1% of that 1% of that 1% every get rich at it. 2 out of 3 ain’t too shabby. The life of an artist is a rare and unlikely wisp of a dream.
Here’s my problem, I have seen it. I know it’s real. The unicorn is real! And now the thought of ever stepping back from that precipice into a safer, more comfortable life seems ridiculous. Sometimes I wish I could settle back into the “normal life” of my peers and find a desk somewhere. Could I learn to keep my art in it’s “proper place” as a hobby while I work in an office every day to support the family and provide the material success we are supposed to want?
I cannot fault the world around me for being so certain that the unicorn is a myth. I realize it doesn’t make any practical sense. I couldn’t possibly tell the students I work with that it’s a dream worth chasing. But inside I hear the distant pounding of hooves and the strident neigh of that majestic one-horned beast. The chase continues.