That is the truth. To make or not to make is the question.
it is infuriating for me. I got sober, accepted that I had to completely change my life, and finally got the courage to be me (at least most of the time) and pursue my dream.
and the kicker is. I am good. I am quite talented and intellectual. It comes through in how I make and approach and talk.
and the mother fucking art fairs that have supported many artists are a dying breed. They are gasping for air. Awaiting cpr and the paddles.
And I feel as if I went through that in getting sober. The paddles the life or death and now it’s repeated?!?!? With my true love that keeps me sober ?!?!? God, or HP, you have one sick sense of humor.
This is the question that continually repeats itself. Am I good enough? Is my work good enough? Am I prepared for having it take off, if it were to? Am I a delusional lunatic?
Is it true, if you build it they will come? If they have they are just ghosts! Or is it the if a tree falls in a forest and no one is there does it make a sound? My work could be the tree falling and no one is there who wants to reap the glory of this very special breed of tree? The fairs are empty of my demographic. So my work has not been recognized as it should??
Now I am just confusing myself. It was recognized in the PR aspect. people love the postcard and want it. But no one wants to actually buy my reasonably priced work. What the fuck???? Seriously, what the fuck?
I have heard so often “I’m just making the rounds” which I have come to understand as like it, but no well enough to part with any money.
It is so hard to not become a judgemental lady and say “these people can’t recognize the value of quality work that pushes back a little. Are people that scared of not being normal???” And the answer is probably yes. As I became/embraced my alcoholism to deal with my inability to be “normal.”
Right now it is 3:33 and when I lived here I was at 333 Morris. I remember my roommate saying he liked that it was 333 because 333 is half of 666.