Jobs for artists

Follow your dreams they said, do what makes you happy, they said. But what happens when the thing that makes you happy is the emersion in the world of fine arts and culture, the development of the inner self, the expansion of the soul into the fluctuating cosmos? In short; the path that leads to less jobs than if you’d trained to be a pet psychic (an arts degree). Some, at best, end up being trained in creative thinking, therefore are able to find solutions for life’s difficult problems, such as how and where to sell your art and/or skill set. Others are less fortune and find out the hard way that expressing themselves through florescent pink paint on sheets of plastic and polystyrene, doesn’t pay the bills (boooooo). These are the ones that end up as waiters, nannies, circus performers, yoga teachers, event managers and if they’re really unlucky LUCA school of arts secretaries. The value of studying the arts cannot be measured in terms of ‘real world’ success, you have grown to know yourself which is an achievement some people don’t make until their early forties (or is that a mid-life crisis?). Try telling this though to your grandmother when she asks at the next family meal when you’ll be getting a job/husband/child/some transport that isn’t the bus. Chill out gran, I’m only thirty-four. Then again, where is your next pay check coming from? Who will pay for your haircut (which is actually essential for your appearance at the next gallery opening)? Mother and father cut you off a while back because even though they told you to follow your dreams, they now believe that those dreams should start paying for themselves. Tough luck enlightened soul, time to start asking the cosmos how aunt Mauve’s coca spaniel is doing to make some real pet psychic dough. That or sending your CV to the Colruyt.


The fatal flower is the perverted shy girl, the one you wouldn’t suspect. Under a soft exterior lies a complex being with an unyielding wildness, anchored to the earth by her humble nature and inexplicable dry humour. She is the femme of now, the modern woman who’s thoughts transcend through cultures and time.

Over the coming months let ‘La Fleur Fatale’ be your guide to the hidden insights and stories of a watchful woman’s eye navigating through the ‘European’ way of life. Struggles and mishaps ensue as life is embraced and the thorny introvert femme clammers for life’s answers. All possible subjects are covered from death to Kim Kardashian and from sisterhood to the perfect strawberry frappe.

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