In the meantime, a lot is coming up for me. For one, this fear of being judged. At the end of the day I always think I'm dumb. It doesn't matter how validated I am, how many "intellectuals" I'm friends with, the kind of books I read, etc. I always feel outside.

The good news is if I feel it lots of other people feel it. I remember reading an entry in Sylvia Plath's diary about feeling dumb for only reading four plays by Shakespeare.

There's also the anxiety that maybe I'm a fraud. Maybe it looks like I'm just doing this for kicks. That ultimately maybe I'm a groupie for other artists, a perpetual employee of others.

What can you fucking do. You hand me a solo show in Los Angeles and I still don't believe you.

Nevertheless, no matter how frequently I shit my pants I'm putting on a show. True, there's a lot I don't have. I don't have a graduate degree. I don't have the technical skills to do what I'm doing. I don't really know how to talk about my art. I'm covering images not necessarily in vogue in Los Angeles. Heck, I might even have a bumpkin quality to my work.

But perhaps, in some abstract way, it behooves me to be at a disadvantage. Perhaps my work will fill a void.

It just feels good for someone to invest in me. It proves to me I exist as an artist. Someone is literally giving me their space to show my work.

Sometimes I can't believe it.