Nothing of content

Nothing of content to write about. A vague sense of unhappiness. Loneliness. Fear and uncertainty. Hmmm…

Gonzales Uber Alles and Presidential Suite were mood-altering substances of the week. Now there is an artist I admire. Changing styles to suit, doing different things at will. Those crayzee artists. Gotta love ’em.

On that subject- I am actually a mite frustrated at my inability to produce any work recently. Seemingly lacking space and equipment. Space: A concrete-floored room; Equipment: A wooden ramp, a video camera, the ability to edit avi work on Premiere. So simple but it bugs me so. Does this frustration actually mean I just might be labeled an artist? God forbid.

I need to get myself a sponsor to fund my unwholesome, confounding but interesting artwork. Or maybe a sugardaddy. Or… just someone who has more cash and space than me? That can not be too hard, surely?

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