I Speak for the Underacheivers of the World…no, not the pseudo La Bohemians

…who really are manipulative shits trying to leech a living off their girlfriend’s parents by crying, “tortured artist here.” They give the true tortured artists a bad name. They are always good-looking, charming when it suits them, emo on a dime but quickly made all better–and I mean ALL better–the moment they get what they want, or its equivilant shiny new toy.

 

No, tortured artists, us real ones,  look gift horses in the mouth, we check the gums, under the tongue, request dental records…we don’t EXPECT any handouts because life has taught us not to. That’s why we can seem ungrateful. Not that we don’t appreciate your gift. It’s that we can’t believe someone is finally GIVING us something of value in return for all those years of pouring out our guts onto the canvas, the page, the microphone…whatever is your artistic medium…

 

And mostly getting ignored or told to shut your yap or get a job or “why can’t you do it like Thomas Kincaide or Wyland or Brittany Spears” you know, the ones who make MONEY.

Now, I don’t throw asparagus at any artist, least of all for making money. That’s what we are ALL trying to do. But pardon me if I get a little bitter at an audience that will pay for a picture of the same quaint little cottage in the woods over and over and over again, year after year, on canvas and lunchboxes and cards and lampshades…

It’s not the artist I resent. It’s the buying public that settles for the same image over and over rather than buy something new and interesting that maybe your neighbor might find unattractive and therefore make you look like a fool. And how do we tell something that appeals to a wide audience because it’s a habit from something that appeals to a wide audience because it is truly archetypal and classic and worthy?

Well, far as I can tell, we can’t tell. Not for a few centuries at least, then see if our decendents still get off on little lit cabins in the woods by Thomas Kinkaid. I mean, we still get off on Hobbits, right? But there were tons of Hobbit clones in Tolkein’s day and in the 1970’s revival, and now. When all the dust settles, who will remember Strawberry Shortcake? But 100 years from now, I’ll bet they’ll still be into Hobbits.

 

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