|By Eugene Thomason, art student at work, c.1959|
The truth is that I love my own time. I love my own company. There is not enough time to do all that I want to do on my own. I have so much painting to try. So many ideas to work out. I am never bored. So it feels like an infringement to have to answer the alarm bells of another calling, to rush to employment and tie my time into service of commerce, the paying the bills. That is the warning of the Sunday setting sun... getting in place my clothes and lesson plans, packing my bags and slipping into hard shoes. I must pay bills. For that I must work full time every week.