I do all sorts of artsy things under the moniker of n10a.
I used to associate with an artsy crowd and they’d always go on about how painting was their LIFE and how everything they did was some sort of profound expression of their soul’s deepest blah blah blah, but more often than not, their interest was strictly superficial. They just wanted to sell shit and be all but worshiped, usually not even putting forth the slightest bit of effort to improve themselves in any way. You can spot these people a mile away, you can smell the stagnation. And maybe in some way they were right; Their work showed that deep down inside they didn’t give a shit about being people with substance, they just wanted, maybe even desperately needed, something easy to define them. I always thought it was about finding in the epic in the ordinary. That’s why artists are miserable fucks - we are the storm clouds that give the world a brief light show.