when art sucks but it’s yours and you have to let go

what is happening? since when am i the chick with paint on my fingers and i don’t know what to even call this on the floor? it’s a mess like a bathroom stall with better intentions and not enough genius. me, blowing off steam, sharing it with this blog because…well just because i guess. so here, this is what happens when you remove stability and let the weirdo out.

i’m not finished. who knows what the fuck it is anyway…it’s like what happens to a psychotic dyslexic three year old when given too many pixie stix (es) and one too many goulden’s mustard packets. that just made me laugh. all is well…

i’m ghetto using hangers, using plastic forks, using shiny shitty paper…but it’s either this or worse.

i’m in a good place, this alleged good place where you dont wanna jump off a bridge and can handle day to day life without a strait jacket and a plastic cup filled with funny pills.

normal. responsible. educated. covered in paint. watching intervention without feeling smug, ok trying not to feel smug.

and when did i start listening to rancheras? just hand me a pistol, some tequila, a rose and call me el grande chueca. that’s my ranchera name, officially. write it down, fucker.

this new blog post is brought to you by “what the fuck” and “why the hell not?”

ps – you don’t know what a ranchera is? ok, i got you, son.

2 thoughts on “when art sucks but it’s yours and you have to let go

  1. I like this. I like it a lot. you know what? You are an artist. Embrace it. Don’t say you aren’t. A realization I just had, is that I paint so I’m an artist. I never thought I was good enough but after reading a book (can’t remember the title but it is one of those neat inspirational coffee table types) I realiized it is time to own your talent and sell yourself. So screw it, we are now artists. World, be prepared for greatness. And hey, you may be the beginning of a new art movement, ghetto art, so hot 🙂

  2. whoa wow…you’ve just really blown me away. i guess i’m constantly stuck in the “little fat girl” mentality where like i’ll make the first joke on myself so i don’t hear it from anyone else. i’m too old for that shit but it’s such a bad habit.
    dude andrea,
    making this last night felt so transcendent. i’ve got so much dumb shit going and this crazy shit on my floor took me out of it, kept me from buying more liquor and pushed me to figure out how to paint without any brushes lol.
    we are artists baby. thanks so much for the love.

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