Tag Archives: WTF

Conversations with a Broken Brain, episode 1

 

What are you doing?

I’m working on this bracelet, obviously.

It sucks.

No. No it doesn’t. Also: Fuck you.

Seriously, it sucks. You’re incompetent. I can see three flaws and you’re not even halfway done.

Those aren’t flaws, I just changed the pattern slightly. I think the design is more cohesive this way.

You must be joking. Messing up patterns? Thinking you can modify designs and it won’t end in disaster? You’re not even a real artist.

Yes I am!

Um, no. You’re just a n00b with delusions of grandeur. How many pieces have you sold on Etsy? How many galleries display your work? Does anyone not related to you read your blog?

That’s not what makes an artist. A “real” artist is someone who makes art. Period.

Hiding behind inspirational quotes, I see. I assume you got that one off a bumper sticker.

Actually, I have heard it from many artists I admire. Besides, success takes time. I’m not going to improve if you make me give up.

Being a REAL artist requires more talent and hard work than you’re capable of.

That’s not true…is it?

You think other artists spend this much time arguing with themselves? Your production rate is abysmal. Furthermore, everyone else’s art is much better than yours. Everyone’s.

…Even if that was true, it wouldn’t matter. I’m still an artist.

Fine, you’re technically an artist. But you’re trying to make this a legit business. Who the hell do you think you are, thinking anyone wants to buy your shit? There are a lot of unsuccessful artists out there who are way more talented than you. It’s arrogant to think YOU have a shot.

I’m talented. I think.

You know who doubts themselves? Losers.

Okay, I KNOW that’s not true. Everyone has doubts sometimes.

Other people’s doubts are unfounded fears. Yours are a reality check from your gut feelings.

No.

Just accept that you’re worthless and give up.

No!

You’re a waste of space and so is your art.

…No.

Yes, it—

SHUT UP! You’re wrong. I know you’re wrong. You won’t win this time. I. Am. An. Artist. Moreover, I’m a good artist.

Sure you are.

Don’t I take medication to keep you from talking this way to me?

You can’t turn off the truth.

IT’S NOT TRUE, DAMMIT! I am done with this pointless argument. You won’t stop me from creating. I am finishing this bracelet, and I’m going to sell it, and it will make someone happy, and you can just go fuck yourself.

Whatever you say, O Delusional One.

I hate you.

I am you.

I know.

Death of a Sketchbook

I have an addiction to notebooks.  I’ve never met one that I didn’t want to own, to love, to realize its potential, to thrust my throbbing pen of creation into its pure, white pages of…um…er… Wow, that metaphor got out of hand.  Sorry about that.

Anyway, I REALLY like notebooks, and as a result my house is filled with them.  Some of them I’ve had for years, set aside in favor of new notebooks, rediscovered, and used again until the cycle begins anew.  I rarely “finish” one, but the one currently on my desk is finally ready to give up the ghost.  I remember the spiral-bound blank journal was a gift from an aunt when I was in middle school.

To celebrate, I am sharing selected sketches (with commentary)  from the deceased notebook, most of which I don’t remember drawing.  These doodles are usually born when I’m on the phone or trying to think of something to write about.  My hand makes them totally independently from my brain, so I’m often surprised at what I’ve been up to while my thoughts were absent.  It’s like coming home from work to find that your roommate has tie-dyed the walls and installed ceiling fans in the floor.

Keep in mind that I’ve never claimed to be able to draw.  I use the monkeys-with-typewriters method, reasoning that if I just make enough lines, at least one is likely to end up in the right spot.  Therefore my sketches tend to look kinda shaggy.  It’s not sloppy technique, it’s my unique style!  Honest!

Click any of the pictures below to start the slideshow.