I am still mad about putting some of my art into a fashion show at a club in Rochester and the really nice tote bag I gave the curator with my art in it that I wrote a tag with my name on it - never returned with my art. bumms me out because my art returned in a plastic bag. :( this was like 5 years ago. This stuff makes me hate art shows. I still want that bag back.
I have my period and there are men outside of where I am with power sanders. (plural)
Me and my dad.
My friend passed. My car died. And I just broke my toe. Things are so cool this week.
The only way people want me lately is quiet and pleasant. This is why I prefer to be alone.
If humans are having fun making art all by themselves there is a 5 million % chance they don’t want to talk to you.