What Makes Me an Artist?

In no particular order, reasons what makes me an artist…

– I’m one of those characters that walks past you in the street, and you almost immediately judge me. You think i’m weird, or a tramp or unsavory.. or indeed an “arty type.” Which makes me different, which makes me an artist.

– I’ve been homeless for 8 and half months in the years of 2004-2005. Offically classed as homeless for 3 of them. All the greats have been homeless and such – i.e. Basquiat.

– I was brought up in avid poverty – Of course, now its a luxery poverty. We have the internet at home and I have a laptop. (Despite having no phone line cuz couldnt pay the bill – the internets more important lol) Although you try bringing 2 kids up on a 9,000 quid a year after tax with benefits wage on your own – leaves very little to the imagination. So i appericate everything, where I am at and the things around me. Van Go along other masters lived in strict poverty.

– Some people just don’t get my work… which makes me real contemporary ;o)

– I hold no common sense… a dreamer type. If we don’t have hopes and dreams then what do we have as a human race? Exactly. There is always something rather than nothing, even though some would argue or rather it be nothing instead of something.

– I have this complete love for New York City. Like its my first love or something. Really. I feel complete when I’m there. And i’ve always wanted to live there for aslong as I can remember. Thats why I always work my ass off in underpaid soul crushing jobs over the summers 2 go bizack to the place i love unconditionally/ I should have been born and brought up in NYC. Every artist loves NYC.

– I don’t really [75% of the time] give a fuck about what the general consensus agrees with.

– Instead of being an alcoholic and or drug user… I’m completely the opposite.

– I read philosophy. I think therefore I am…

– I think I am an artist… therefore I am! Ya heard??

——————————————–

Oh and can I just tell the W.W.W. I have the greasey-ist face ever. I HATE the water in the DOnx… It always makes me look like I have re-hit puberty again. Give me a mood swing and a NY Baseball cap and its like i’m 14 again.
I swear in the future…
My face is sooo greasey that they can use the oil off it for fuel…. when the fossil fuel oil runs out.
When I wake up, my pillow is invisble.
Santa uses my face to lubricate the chimneys to fit down them wid ease.
wHEn I go swimming, Greenpeace thinks they’ve got another oil leak in the ocean ;o)

See… I can take the piss outta myself… as well as alot of other people… shall we say its my “pleasant dry sense of humour” which is on one of my letters of recommendation. I never really thought I had one, till that. And I asked my hommies… and they all agreed! Its scary how sometimes you just don’t know yourself. Food for thought.

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One thought on “What Makes Me an Artist?

  1. but I suppose after this exercise in box-checking we can strike originality right off the list.

    hoho jokes love, jokes. lolzfest.

    I think SoYo should be said in hushed tones, like SoCo on the adverts.

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