2009-11-05


It is winter. And as my life plumets into new and exciting territory I am hopelessly glad. For though it feels unsafe and is, at least I am alive.

And at least I am painting! I am fulfilled, even if my art expression hasn't been fulfilled.

I don't need hot sex to love myself. I don't need a hot body to feel good about myself. I don't need someone saying they love me to feel good about myself. Nor do I need one to validate my art, my person, my things, my city, my dogs, or anything.

I have art. I have always had art and it's what makes me whole.

Anything I do in my life is so meaningless that ultimately any discord I can flick with my wrist. Work is what matters. Paintings are what I will leave.

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