Today, words like “lost,” “wandering,” “soul-searching,” or “confused” are generally accepted as reliable descriptors employed for much of the youth. I mean, I personally classify myself as an artist — and in more ways than one — so you can imagine my mom losing her shit while I was off finding myself (whatever that means) for most of my early twenties. But most either don’t get that opportunity, or don’t take it.
The unsettling part in all this is that society has somehow prioritized comfort and complacency over the unknown and adventure. The idea of getting outside or following a dream is second to the more accepted and thereby encouraged idea of a nine to five. I’m not sure about you, but the idea of a cubicle doesn’t necessarily tickle my fancy. Quite frankly, it’s about as appealing as hemorrhoids on a tropical island with no shower. Sadly, not everyone has the skill or the will to make a living outside of an office and, honestly, if we didn’t have those finance guys, numerically dis-inclined people like me would be in. And for most, that cubicle is a necessary evil in affording the life outside of the office — that is the way it is now for me.
Life takes us down unforeseen paths — and more often than not, there is no choice in the matter. If you would have taken a look at the thirteen year old me, you would have never guessed that this short, chubby kid in Arizona (with his braces and acne, sporting white sunglasses and spiked hair) would have ended up living in Southern California, clocking in at the Pacific Ocean for “work.” I’m as shocked as anyone.
Since the first day I held a camera in hand, I’ve been dead set on making my living in and around the different ocean-bordered paradises that our planet has to offer. And I am knee-deep in that dream. But the offsetting reality is that there are a million photographers out there, and not everyone gets chosen by a patron with empty pockets. Therefore, in a saturated and increasingly competitive professional field — where your friends can become your biggest rivals — keeping your toes in the waters elsewhere is both enlightening and incredibly beneficial. It provides stability. It gives you a fall back plan. It offers a much-needed reality check. Ultimately, it keeps the dream going.
With that in mind, this is exactly where my road takes me at present: testing the waters elsewhere. I now work in an office every day. After years spent waxing poetic about taking risks and lamenting the hellish cubicle, I find myself one of them. But it has proven a blessing in disguise. That base, that stability of sorts, allows me to pursue my passions with unprecedented zeal. This past year, even though I was a card-carrying member of the dreaded morning commute, I still managed to meet amazing new friends, capturing the timeless moments we shared. In other words, my dream kept going.
Looking back, those days of Krispy Kremes, hair lube, and white sunglasses still sting a bit. Yet they also act as a great reminder just how far this whole being lost or wandering or soul-searching or whatever-ing thing got me. As I wade into the waters of office life, that visible growth and transformation from me then to me now puts in the 9 to 5 into perspective, maintaining my sanity as well as my ambition.
My road is for me. Your road is for you. That being said, if this kook from Arizona can chase his dream, so can you.
Between having no clue and thinking that you, the most important principle to carry through is to have fun, whether that means full-time (if you’re able to swing it) or early mornings and slow evenings and weekends when you’re not paying the rent. It is time to quit making excuses and go write your own country song.
To see more of Maxx Buchanan’s work, visit his website, MaxxBuchanan.com. And don’t forget to Like him on Facebook and follow him on Instagram.
