Wednesday, September 06, 2006


I have a lot of paintings - I mean a LOT. I only started painting because I wanted real canvases for my walls instead of framed posters and I figured even some crappy thing I came up with has got to be better than a Renoir print behind cheap plexiglas. Who could have anticipated that it would turn into my main outlet? It's my therapy, it grounds me but I'm no good at it. I have no delusions about my talents or more to the point, lack of talents. Last night I was thinking about all the poor no-talent hack slobs (like me) who despite all evidence that their art is worthless crap churn out new work year after year.

How much will I produce in my lifetime? How many people are there out there just like me? Where does a lifetime's collection of mediocre art go to die? And is there no Patron Saint of Mediocre Artists? (yes, I actually wondered this out loud) Turns out there isn't. So, I'm applying for the position.

Vote for me; Xanthia - Patron Saint of Mediocre Artists!

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