Day 89: All I wanted was a Pepsi, And she wouldn't give it to me

I am seriously annoyed by all of the following:

1. "inspirational" quotes from artists that I dislike (i.e. "Believe it or not, I can actually draw." Jean Michel Basquiat...sure you can, Jean. And I can wrestle alligators, but I've never tried that either.)
2. movies about artists
3. books written about artists by non-artists

Lately, I've been exposed to an overwhelming amount of literature about artists written by intellectuals who frankly, romanticize the idea. They portray artists in a way that makes them seem unfathomable creatures, full of volatility and usually walking the thin line between genius and madness. Yes, it's true that we creative types tend to possess all these traits at one time or another, but don't all humans?

It just occurred to me that it is the rest of the world (people who have real jobs, couches, TVs and living rooms) that I consider unfathomable. So, if the old maxim is true that you know someone is crazy when they think they aren't, then give me my straitjacket.

I think maybe it's a question of what came first, the chicken or the egg? What came first, the nutcase or the artist? Do we chose to become artists because we are crazy, or is it living a life of instability and masochism that makes us insane? In my case, I blame my parents. It's easier.

I worked all day on painting 19. I'm about 80 percent done with it, and I still hate it. Believe it or not, this is a good sign. If I intensely loathe a painting while I'm working on it, but stick it out until the end, it usually turns out pretty good. Don't ask me why this is; my best guess is that it has something to do with my inner commandant coercing me to improve upon the painting when I want to give it up.

So, if it isn't totally hideous, I'll post pics tomorrow, the first day of April. I technically should have 25 paintings done, since this marks 25% of the year being over, but I'm pretty sure that I'm the only counting at this point.