The Art of the Blend Baby: How Artists Can Thrive in Both Art and Work

By Agustín El Moro Flamenco Fusion Guitarist & Enterprise Architect/Model Based Systems Engineer

Art feeds the soul, mi gente...my people—but the body must eat too, y'all.

I learned this truth very young. In my early days, I told myself I could manage as an artist on my own, especially while as a single man. But when life shifted—when I started a family—that perspective matured. My late wife, Rest in Peace Khonoom Khoshgele—Beautiful Lady—made sure I understood it well: “You can be an artist,” she said, “but family stability has to come first.”

Oddly enough, she was always my fiercest supporter, especially with my love of Flamenco. She never wanted me to abandon my art—she simply wanted to be sure that our daughters had food, shelter, and a childhood far brighter than my own. But that’s a story for another blog post.

No Safety Net

Like many folks, I didn’t grow up with a safety net. No trust funds. No fallback plans. Not even parents who could reliably put food on the table for me and my siblings. So I learned to work early.

Work was survival. But once I began my artistic voyage—first aspiring to be a writer, then discovering the immediacy of joy and adulation from playing guitar—a different hunger consumed me. I loved the way of the artist. Yet the reality of rent coming due, whether inspiration struck or not, remained ever-present.

For many artists, this friction—the pure pursuit of art versus the pragmatic need to pay the bills—feels like a constant battle. I thought so too.

But over time, I learned it doesn’t have to be. In fact, when approached with intention, blending an artistic life with a sustainable career can empower both worlds.

The Accidental Architect

Twenty to thirty years ago, I stumbled into a career I hadn’t planned on: Information Technology and later Enterprise Architecture, which has morphed into Model-Based Systems Engineering (MBSE).

Why? Because I have always liked the idea of following a process, of seeing how complex systems fit together—patterns and flows, much like the structures in a piece of music, or the design of a spiders web, or the veins on a leaf.

What began simply as a means to put food on the table became something more: a discipline that informed my artistry.

Architecture taught me how to plan, how to see the arc of a project—whether that project is an IT transformation for a global enterprise… or a new Flamenco Fusion song, and possibly an album.

The Myth of the "Starving Artist"

Let me say this plainly: being poor is not romantic. Romanticizing the "starving artist" trope only fuels burnout and disillusionment.

If you love your art—if it is your life’s calling—then give it the greatest gift you can: a stable foundation.

For me, that foundation was a career in systems engineering. And just to clarify, I'm not a systems engineer by training. I have a degree in English and Spanish Literature, an MFA in Creative Writing, and yes a Masters in IT Project Management, which came later...yes a tale for another Blog Post as well, but I learned on the job and got the necessary training through the companies I worked for. Anyway, IT and systems engineering provided not only a stable income, but vital skills: project management, marketing, client relations, strategic thinking, and a way for me to look at my work world in comparison to my artistic endeavors.

All essential if you want to monetize your art without commoditizing your soul.

Lessons from the Blend

Here are a few hard-won truths for artists seeking this balance:

• Separate ego from economics. Charging for your work doesn’t make you less of an artist—it makes you a professional.

• Develop parallel skillsets. My work in architecture taught me tools that now drive my music business: automation, SEO, content marketing, process design.

• Think like an entrepreneur, create like an artist. Build passive income streams. Automate what you can. Treat your art career with the same rigor you'd apply to any business venture.

• Don’t fear structure. A structured life can free your creativity. Planning my days allows space for deep work—whether composing a new piece or preparing for a performance.

• View it as integration, not compromise. I never stopped being a Flamenco Fusion guitarist when I became an architect—I became a more resilient one.

  
  

Final Note: Your Art Deserves Sustainability

Too often I meet brilliant artists who are exhausted, broke, and on the verge of quitting—not for lack of talent, but for lack of a system to support their talent.

You do not have to choose between art and survival. We live in an age rich with tools for artists to thrive—from digital platforms to passive income models to AI-powered business automation.

The key is to blend the artistic and the practical into one harmonious life—like weaving jazz voicings into a Flamenco compás. It’s not a betrayal of art. It’s what allows art to endure.

If this resonates with you, I invite you to follow my journey here. I’ll be sharing more practical insights on blending art with enterprise—because the world needs more thriving artists, not starving ones.

— Agustín