Lately I have become imbibed with the notion of people having crystal globes on their head in my paintings I had the meaning set for this since the notion was conceived, yet, as I was walking perhaps two hours ago I stumbled into a new meaning these same globes had for me. Before going to work I was seem a friend I was trying to be find a golden fish (a fish that turned out to be simply fictious) and a secret, he was making prints. After a few seconds of searching for the secret I developed a theory (a rather far fetched and albeit sad theory, but I needed to see if it was true) and rushed to the other studio, I walked in to find perhaps twenty or thirty prints and a seemingly slightly vexed or at least aloof friend (sadly, as single-minded as I can be paid no notice to this fact and began to ramble about my theory). Theory was moot since there had not been a fish at all. Conversation soon turned to pointlessness with questions such as "Why do Art when no one cares?" and emotional turmoil about having to depend on other to live as an artist. However at this point I was already late for work and had to go. I began to write a letter (still unfinished) addressing some of these issues. Sometimes I process better when writing.
to sleepy to continue... tomorrow you will meet me again cyberspace
