So glad I got ejected from the harrowing world of soul-sucking work for assholes. Instead, I appear to be doing what artists do: "getting by" and being a part of the art community.

My show was awesome. A lot of people came and filled the space. I sold some zines. It was a cacophony of noise. For everyone who didn't come, it doesn't even matter. Everyone, however, knows I did something. Which means I am an active artist, a "real" artist. I'm demonstrating a public commitment to this. And that was really the whole point.

So I'm working at another gallery this week, a favor for a friend. It behooves me of course that it's a "cool" gallery and I'm making money. But also, it's a casual thing. I can still make my art and not trade my soul.

Last week I worked at the gallery I worked at a year ago, the same gallery that so intimidated me when I first moved to LA. They asked me back and it was no big deal. Funny how things change for someone.

I'm so glad I left him. I think about the act often. The extreme pride in myself. I did the fucking thing. I moved to LA, I made this shit happen for myself. I could literally die tomorrow and it wouldn't be a shame. I did something for myself. I survived on my terms 100 per cent in an art context. I haven't worked in any other context since I moved here. And my jobs have been cool as hell.

Now it's about leading my own community. So glad I have Sara, the perfect foil for me in this hunger to succeed. We are programming an entire community together. We are making a platform for ourselves. It feels good to give back and be leaders.

I am so proud of myself for walking the walk. I have such an intolerance for people who sit on their asses and talk all day. They are losers and I'm glad they don't get in my way. Their inertia allows me to take their spot and do what I need to do. I like knowing that I did. It makes me feel entitled about where I am.

Especially after I left that bum. I'm glad he doesn't have me. He was such a phenomenal jerk and loser.

I have been blessed with the greatest reward: a man who actually treats me right--what a concept. He's kind, compassionate, sweet, and adoring. He gives me no grief. He is a complete gentleman and we have sex constantly. So happy with him. I love him.