good, not great

It’s a sunny winter day and Alexander and I run some errands in the morning.  He is only with me because one of the errands involves getting him a Barbour coat (with lining) for his birthday.  We end up with a navy Beaufort, and even manage a 30% discount.

We come home and I watch Inside Llewyn Davis, the new Coen brother’s film.  Most I know who have seen it, hate it.  It’s the kind of film that critics love and audiences loathe.  The Master comes to mind.  Usually, I’m with the audience, but not this time.

Aside from the film’s overall beauty, soundtrack, and Justin Timberlake, the rather unlikable Llewyn Davis gets under my skin.  He is a very good folk singer.  He is clearly talented.  But he is not quite good enough.  He goes to Chicago and meets Bud Grossman, an important music manager.   He auditions for him.  It’s a nice audition.  Llewyn finishes singing and Bud says, “I don’t see a lot of money here.”  That’s it. 

I see some of myself in Llewyn.  I know I am a good photographer and a good writer. I am not exceptional at either.  My talents will not translate into money. I am not sad about this, as I am not trying to earn money at photography or writing, as I recognize these skills are near-impossible to monetize.

But how lucky is the person who can make a living at their craft.  Llewyn is more like us than not.