I feel the same way sometimes, that I am not an artist puppet to be used to produce works for the masses. I’ve recently been back to creating works, after a very long hiatus. One of the reasons I didn’t pursue a career in graphic design, what I went to school for, was because I didn’t like how I felt after creating a piece for some commercial entity. I felt like I was pimped. I felt like a used condom. And there is no amount of money in this world that would be enough to cover the loss of my self respect. Yeah it means just that much to me. So anyway, lately as I’ve been painting my little heart out, kind and wonderful people around me, who’ve seen my stuff, keep encouraging me to sell it. I’ve had offers around town to put my art in galleries to be sold. This is wonderful, this is great, but the timing sucks ass. I’m just not ready for all that yet. The world is ready for me, I see, but I am clearly not ready for the world. I still have my wounds from my previous experiences as a graphic design whore. I think I have an artistic STD (I’m Still Touchy Dammit) from all the whoring I’ve had to do with my art over the years. I would love to get to a place where I wouldn’t cry to see my pieces go, but as of right now? My art, my paintings, are like my appendages, and sorry honey, I haven’t gotten the regenerative thing down pat yet. I just can’t let go.
*starfish can grow a new one