Below is the excerpt of a potential book I might write. I've been thinking about this idea for quite some time. This morning I finally sat down and typed out a few thoughts.

In many ways it feels like my entire life has been leading towards the writing of this book. Being a songwriter, artist and musician has always felt like my life vocation. But, strangely, for some unknown reason, I found myself thrust into a career in financial services that has bizarrely endured for well over a decade. If you had asked me when I was eighteen that i would be a finance-guy in my thirties I would have laughed in your face. “That’s preposterous!” I would have said. “I’ll be a rockstar by the time I’m 30. I’ll be selling out stadiums and playing to millions of screaming fans by then.” Instead, I have a regular nine-to-five, a 401K, health benefits, daily emails, virtual meetings, business trips, expense reports and a whole host of other non-glamorous tasks. The disconnect between where I thought I’d be, and where I actually am has caused a lot of cognitive dissonance. Perhaps a more accurate way of saying that might be acute mental anguish. The artist in me wakes up everyday with a compelling need to create. But the practical requirements of life force me to shower, get dressed into a collared shirt, make my morning coffee, check the markets and the sit down at my desk to begin a day of emails, meetings and calls. I have to suppress the artist for the day, and do things that actually make money. For most of my life I have viewed this requirement as a cruel form of torture. How dare “they” make me do this! How dare “they” imprison my creative spirit!

Yet, despite all my internal protesting, despite my rebellious thoughts, I continue to clock-in day after day, week after week, month after month, and now year after year. It’s as if my life is some weird multi-verse. That somewhere in some parallel universe I am the famous rockstar with millions of screaming fans. But in this universe I’m just Roman, a regular finance guy who happens to make music on the side. It’s an odd place to be. For many years it was an insufferable place to be. I hated it. I hated my path. I hated my journey. I hated the oppression I felt I was experiencing. For it felt like I was silencing the very part of me who is closest to my core. Music after all is my truest calling, of that I have no doubts. But, is it my only calling? That’s an interesting question, and one which I intend to explore in the pages that follow.

As I’ve grown older, and the hormonal teenager turned into a rebellious twenty-year-old, who eventually turned into a wiser, more mature thirty-year-old, my opinion of my life’s trajectory has changed. It’s evolved. I’ve started to view this path with a lot more gratitude. In fact, I’ve actually started seeing my path as a competitive advantage over other artists. But this viewpoint did not happen all at once. It’s taken years of self-reflection and life experiences to shape and form these thoughts. Now, as I sit here typing this book I feel a calm sense of resolve that perhaps my whole journey has been to help other artists who find themselves caught in the dilemma between making art, and making money. Furthermore, since my professional career is about the management and stewardship of money, perhaps I have a unique vantage point from which to espouse some wisdom on how money and practical pursuits can fuel and enhance our artistry, not hinder it.

Yet, us artists are up against so much societal programming. We believe, because society tells us, that if we aren’t pursuing our art full time, we aren’t a true artist. What I have come to realize is, nothing could be farther from the truth. In fact, those of us who are living real lives, with real jobs, and families to provide for have the closest connection to the real struggles of daily life. As such, we have closer proximity to the true struggles of existence. To me, that qualifies us to be real artists. For artists are seekers of truth and beauty. We take pain, discontent, or dissonance and shape it into something beautiful. The fact that we do this while also balancing the practical aspects of our lives means we are artistic warriors. We battle for our art. We refuse to let the world stamp out our magic, no matter how hard the world tries. Society wants us to fall into line, but the artists of the world push back and say, “not without a fight.”

In this spirit, I hope to provide courage and confidence to all you artists out there who are forced to walk the thin line of duality. Those who are forced to balance your burning need to create, with the inescapable requirement to be practical. Those who continue to devote time, energy, money and effort to your art, despite what all others around you might say about it. Those who continue to smile in the face of ignorant comments from those who are not brave enough to follow their own passions. Those who wake up day after day to move your art forward, even though you feel as if you are languishing in obscurity. Those who feel the crushing weight of your potential on your shoulders at all times, bearing the heavy burden of unfulfilled dreams. Those who have big visions, but who have no idea how you’re going to actualize them. Those of you feel as if your art is everything to you, but seems to mean so little to the rest of the world.

To all of you part-time artists, this book is for you.