
Hi again.
I've been thinking a lot about time. Recently, I watched a video titled "Time Is Worth More Than Money" and it struck a chord with me. I've always valued spending my time doing what I want. Not everyone has that privilege - I know how lucky I am - though not without struggle. There's always been a lingering pressure, a constant fight to hold onto my way of living, to stay true to myself. That tension, I think, is something a lot of people feel but rarely talk about.
I've always worked hard. Not in a 9-to-5, conventional sense, but deeply and intensely, on the things I care about: music, art, creation. Some days I work from the moment I wake up until I sleep, only stopping to eat. And it's never about money or recognition - it's about the passion, the process... This is my work.
Still... I can't deny how deeply it bothers me when people call what I do a "hobby". I know I should just let it be - not everyone will see things the way I do and it's not my job to make them understand. But deep down, it stings. My art is what it is because of this path, because I've chosen to keep it mine: more introspective, less to the world. If they can't see it, that's on them. Let them be blind.
I never wanted a normal job. I tried, but it never aligned with my core. It didn't make me happy. Being an artist is the life that allows me to live fully and it's taken years to truly accept that.
This ties back to a quote I came across later in the video, by Harry Owen:
"Are you doing with your life what you want to do or what you think you ought to do? Seeing the difference is wisdom. Finding they are the same is a blessing."
At first, I didn't fully get it. But now I do. Wisdom is knowing the difference between what you want and what you think you should do. A blessing is when your actions align with your truth, despite the pressures of family, society or expectations. Even under the weight of others' opinions, moving forward with conscious intent transforms fear into purpose. That's where freedom lies - that's something I need to keep on my mind.
Time feels more precious now. I turned 30 this year and I still feel connected to my twenties - as if I haven't left them behind. But when I really think about it, I'm closer to 40 than to 20. That thought hits me hard sometimes. Things feel subtly different now. I reflect more. I value my own company even more than before, though I'm fortunate to share my life with someone I love deeply. Happiness isn't only found in solitude. I can feel it in many moments, whether I'm alone or with others. But time alone has its own kind of magic for me and I treasure it.
And then, there's fear. The fear of death, fear of not having enough time. I still want to create and experience so much. There are projects I dream of fulfilling, sounds I want to explore, art I want to make. The options are unimaginable.
Sometimes I catch myself thinking: "Will I have enough time to do it all? Will I leave a legacy?".
I don't need it to be recognised by the world, but I want to tell my story - to exist beyond my time. I know I've already left a mark with the people close to me, and hopefully, one day, to my children. My music, my art - even if unknown - will still outlast all. That, to me, will be proof that I was here. That's legacy.
This ties back to another Owen quote I found:
"There's this sense that, when you die, at least die feeling that you've done something. And I want to feel that I've done something... however trivial, however small, however superficial it may be... I want to feel I've done something. I'm getting old, let's be honest. And I thought, well, if I don't say something now, I never will."
When I was younger, a teenager, I had a kind of fearlessness. I cared so little about anything. I just... lived. I've been working to recover that mindset, especially as a way to push back against fear. I'm not fully fearless, nor do I want to be, but I feel I'm getting back to my "youthful" mindset. More confident. Trusting my work, my life and how I spend my time. Happiness isn't constant, but if it appears more often, I won't complain...
Time is yours. Choose how to spend it. And spend it well.
Thank you for reading "Inside The Mind Of An Artist".
Until next time,
VĂtor