The word of 2020

Drej and I had this conversation earlier, while she was telling me about the month spent outdoors, on a Christmas fair. (I wanted to register fairs as one of my future occupations, but the General said he rather has me inside and for himself than outside and freezing. He doesn't get the appeal :D ). I doodled with an old photo of her, learning the ropes of the watercolour photoshop action, and of course, because she's hot, she got a ton of Likes when she put it up as a profile pic. Simultaneously an editor of a local photo magazine posted a long bitter rant about what shit pics on Facebook get Likes while the quality stuff - like his - gets so little. A lot of responses he got were, hey, man, listen, this is Facebook, not a National gallery - we Like mostly the photos of people we know and like. 

        I remember the time when suspecting such a rant was about me would break my heart. Because I would really want to be featured in such a prominent magazine and the opinion of the editor would mean the world to me. It wouldn't have occurred to me that these role models I aspire the respect and approval of are bitter old fucks who hardly ever got any respect of their own, dreaded the talented young competition, hated the better Liked and resented the taste of the general public who will vote a thousand times Yes on a hot ass and tits in the least original lighting, than their artistic view of the political now. Or some shit like that. 

        They would have shunned me and I would think it was me. 

      Creativity - and until you get this, you will suffer loneliness and defeat - is like a religion. It is between you and the Gods. Not the church/gallery, not the psalms/reviews, not the preachers/editors and critics. It is you, sitting down, to create and ten years later to create a lot better and 25 years later to create a legacy. If you want to sell and be famous and recognized, that is an entirely different strategy, you can learn that as well, or hire someone game-savvy. But you are not creating to impress or compete or compare with drunk old farts. They need never know the poetry under your fingertips you are tuning in in secret. It's not about them. It is about pulling on 

BIG GIRL PANTS.