Hi Stacey!
Today I thought I’d tell you a little about my process as a writer. Specifically, I’d like to tell you about one of my favorite places to write: Six Flags.
In my opinion, an artist is someone who expresses themselves via creation. So, in my opinion, that’s basically every human—and you. However, most humans don’t necessarily think of themselves as artists if they’re not actively pursuing a specific art form. See, there are various categories of art that hold various levels of import to people. For example, if someone paints garage doors, I think they’re an artist. But the person actually painting the garage door might not identify as an artist. They may think, “If I were to paint on a canvas, only then would I be an artist.” And to make things more complicated, someone else might paint on canvases their entire life, thousands of original paintings even, and, still, they may never consider themselves a “true artist.”
What I’m getting at is there’s a lot of debate about what art is and thus what an artist is and thus what their role in society is. To me, I’m, like, bored by most of these debates. I think expression could possibly be the point of life, so I don’t really care what the parameters are — I just hope people (or beings) express.
Being a dedicated artist within capitalism is bizarre. Most of the serious artists I know have two simultaneous goals as they hone their craft. First, they want to make “good” art. “Good” is obviously a wildly subjective word. In this context, “good” might mean impactful, beautiful, special, authentic, etc. Second, many artists aspire to support themselves financially on their art alone. You might be thinking — aren’t those goals logistically opposed? Creating authentic art and being able to control it for profit? And, Stacey, you would be right.
It’s quite common for artists to desire their artistic output match their financial gain. On one hand, it’s so glaringly obvious that financial success does not equate artistic success and vice versa. Historically, many extremely talented and/or significant artists have died in poverty. See: Van Gogh, Herman Melville, Mozart!, so many women and/or people of color and/or people with disabilities whose art never even gained basic exposure! On the other hand, art is incredibly valuable, so if we’re trapped in the confines of a world that rewards significance with money, then, yes, I suppose artists deserve a lot of money.
All this is to say, I am a professional artist, which comes with huge pros and huge cons. The biggest pros: I get to do art, like, all the time. AND I have attained the societal acknowledgement that my art is “valuable.”* The biggest con is that I have turned my art (what I love most) into an obligation. And so at the beginning of last year (2023), I made the conscious choice to infuse more fun into my artistic process.
The truth is I love fun, but it’s rarely a top priority for me. No one knew how un-fun I am like my former roommate Mary Beth. We shared a bunk bed for six months while working as comedians on a cruise ship. Mary Beth was queen of fun. She went out every night to crew bar or a party or to Bermuda if we were docked there. Despite her almost always inviting me, I almost never joined her. Once, exasperated by my persistent ambivalence to her plans, she griped, “When fun knocks on your door, you’re supposed to answer!” I said, “Fun is my Jehovah’s Witnesses.”** And then I went to bed early so I could wake up early to write.***
So at the start of last year I asked myself, what do I even find fun? Fun, like “good art,” is so subjective. But an objective answer came to me: theme parks. I simply adore theme parks, Stacey! I love the jovial atmosphere! I love the corny music and the sugary treats! And I love roller coasters: the anticipation, the breeze, the sensation of fear followed by the exhilarating falling freedom!
Although going to a theme park is a once-a-year or once-every-ten-years activity for most people****, the first Sunday of last year, I bought a Six Flags annual pass and drove out to the park. I had such a sunny, cheerful day! Which launched me into a year of writing at Six Flags! More to come in my follow-up post.
Waiting for a sign.
xo
Alice
* To be the clearest, I believe all art is inherently valuable, but human culture on the whole does not. I think humanity’s refusal to see inherent value in art can be best exemplified by the mere existence of the phrase “aspiring artist.”
** I believe you’re intelligent enough to understand basically any joke I make, but in case humor is a complicated translation, the joke here is that Jehovah’s Witnesses proselytize door to door, and people typically try to avoid them.
*** Despite what this anecdote would lead you to believe, Mary Beth had a lasting positive affect on the way I live. I often think about this thing she said, something like: “Do what you want when you can. Some people don’t even let themselves eat a bagel when they want one.”
**** I’m aware that when I say “most people” I couldn’t possibly know if I’m actually speaking for greater than half the world. Like, do four billion people even go to theme parks at all? Let’s acknowledge my very particular world view as a white American cis-gender millennial gal living in Los Angeles. I am always being as honest as I can with you, but remember, I sometimes (often?) will make errors out of ignorance.
Hi Stacey 
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