Can you make art without money?
Can you define your philosophy without money?
Can you find romance without money?
I think about capitalism and money a lot. To me, philosophy, art, and romance are really the same thing. They differ only in how deep they go and how they’re expressed. Each feeds the others, and none ranks above the rest. But these days money often gets in the way, hiding what made them valuable in the first place.
When I was twenty, I had no money, and surviving was all I could think about. Just getting through each day took everything I had. There was no room to chase anything higher.
That winter, I got a job. The pay was small, but I decided to put all of it into growing and gaining experience. In ten years it wouldn’t matter much anyway, I told myself, so I threw everything I had at my future self.
As the money slowly started coming in, I became obsessed with getting the details just right. Sometimes I got pretentious and full of myself. It took me a while to see that this wasn’t real freedom or real growth.
For the past two years, I’ve thought hard about how to spend my time, which has become more valuable than money. I’ve put a lot of it into building the philosophy my art rests on. Money can always be earned back. Time can’t.
Along the way, I started asking again what really matters. The art and philosophy I’m after, I realized, don’t come from having plenty.
Then one day a question hit me. If I were twenty again, with no money and no experience, would I put philosophy and art ahead of improving myself? Could I afford that, when I couldn’t even cover 500,000 won for rent?
When you’re struggling to survive, dreaming about lofty ideals can feel like something only a full stomach allows. The question stayed with me. Not long ago, I spent ten hours straight talking it through with a friend who’s a writer. We didn’t land on an answer, but I got a lot out of the conversation.
Should an artist with no money chase money, or chase the dream? One option is to take a day job and build your philosophy on the side. The other is to hold on to your philosophy while earning nothing. We couldn’t choose.
Maybe the two just can’t coexist. Still, that’s no reason to give up. Each of us has to find our own way through it.
So for now, I’m trying to step out of the capitalist frame and ignore money as much as I can. I’m looking for ways to find romance, firm up my philosophy, and finish my art without it. That means spending much less, giving up comforts, and burning my boats once more.
I can’t shake the feeling that art made by someone who’s full, warm, and comfortable can only go so deep. When the things I’ve built from nothing are what hold me up, that’s when I can finally talk about real philosophy. I believe that.
A solid philosophy comes out of not having enough. Longing grows from lack, and through it I find the person inside. Every time I’ve wanted something badly while going without, I’ve grown, and chasing that want is how I’ve come to meet myself.
That’s why all art starts with lack and hunger. Wanting and searching from that place is hard, but it’s also beautiful, and worth it. This is what I think art is at its core, and I plan to keep following it.
In the end, money isn’t the point. What creates real value is our longing, our philosophy, and a pure love of art. You can find romance, define your philosophy, and make art without money. It comes down to the will inside you, not your circumstances.