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It’s been a minute. I haven’t been feeling well, I’ve been really sad about my moms passing and distraught about moving back to _______ even with it being the place I probably need to be right now. I’m stuck on a few things with her death. That in the end she saw me as a mean person. Dying in my arms was really traumatizing. Seeing my first person die and it being my mom is really difficult. Whenever I talk about it I see her face and the blood and foam coming out of her mouth, my wiping it away and saying its okay looking into her eyes and knowing this was the end. These are the days of our lives.
After she died I got a day job because for a minute I was thinking to myself, fuck, no one really cares about me now so I better do for myself and become a real boy and not whatever the fuck I think I am as an artist. All of this is just shit going on in my head. Reality is flexible. I needed a few things moving back to _______. A place to live, maybe a little disposable income to indulge myself with some leisure and luxury, and definitely somewhere where my cat can sleep peacefully. I ended up getting an apartment with lots of difficulty. The last time I signed a lease was 2018 so it's been a minute and I guess with the nationwide lockdowns of 2020 landlords got pissy about renting to folks as it's been reported. I had to pay and ask a lot of favors just to get a roof over my head. I’ve never had a credit card and have no debt and thus no credit outside of social. My idealistic self, not wanting to disappoint those people got a real job, the adult shit that motherfuckers are so quick to jump to when describing artists being selfish and existing in some kind of fantasy world.
I’m gonna try not to get off on too big a tangent being that this is my first post back. I heard on the radio that visiting one art event improves mental health for those that visit. That obviously does not include artists. I think of having to go into my job on my day off to entertain a bunch of people that have no idea what I do. That doesn’t sound appealing, I’m almost tired of going to my own shows and with the last near miss on being arrested the value of my performances makes me feel some type of way. I have a lot of anxiety. Anyway. My day job is not in art and I’m actively trying to make enough money so I can quit said job and pay off the remainder of my lease so I can come and go as I please. I take it for granted that has been something I have done well in my practice. I’ve gotten away from my applying to things and finding the opportunities that I want to connect myself to for, I don't know, grounding? Really what is grounding when the floor is lava.
There are a lot of landmines here in ______. I think that's part of why lots of artists that want to make a name for themselves leave here. And the ones that stay are family people. There is research out there of the dwindling number of working class artists, I count myself among them. A mouthy motherfucker like me doesn’t fit well, my presence is too intimidating for a speaking engagement, tour, panel, most things that would help a public not think i’m out to make them look stupid. I think the perception is that I’ve done those things other places so what's the worth of doing them here? That's not an artist's perspective and I’m sure some of my peers are the police to that end. I think most artists would love to be a part of the scene since artists are literally the ones making the scene that people love so much in the first place. So I'm finding my footing for the however many time. With that I run into a lot of opinions on what I should do to really stick the landing and make myself home in my hometown. I listen patiently. I think of myself as an intellectual so it is the least I can do.
Someone the other day told me that black people don't support black artists as much as white people do. In trying to make sense of this statement I suspended the disbelief going through my head. I mean black artists are black people and as far as I know black artists support themselves like most artists so black people obviously support black artists. My reply to this statement was that well obviously if you nix all that means of support that are not monetary, black people support everyone and believe that the support we give makes the environment as fruitful as it is, I haven’t seen that in most white people, collecting art or otherwise, and I know a lot of white people. It is a heavy weight to carry but black people have been carrying the global economy for a long time, actively working to make that prosperity into something sustaining for the self and better society, often through forced labor in one form or another. Anyway,
Another recurring conversation circles around the way I promote myself. That its probably a part of the pitfall behind this whole thing. I take responsibility for myself sure, I like my privacy, or more correctly, I like to keep my mouth shut about shit I don’t know and keep my face out of peoples faces. There is a line between pride and personal protection. There is a sentiment that says I’d rather be overlooked than overrated. I’ve been getting bent all kinds of ways by most social media platforms that I don’t care to present things with any formality on my platforms. That's a privilege I have, having achieved in some way. Maybe I’m overrated so it's like people know this and are actively seeking better options. I don’t think that's the case, I just think people have their favorites and I’m not one of them. So with that I take for granted my position.
The existential weight of being in my hometown surrounded by people that aren’t from here telling me about where I’m from is a head spinner. With that I think I need more discipline. It was what kept me out of trouble here in the first place so since I could end up in a lot of trouble here currently I’ve got to whip myself into shape. I can’t speak for anyone else, I can only speak for myself. With that is probably going to come more of the perception that I’m just stirring shit up and waving my dick around. Fuck white supremacy. I’ve been dealing with this shit and will continue to deal with it for the entirety of my being an artist if not until I die. When things have fallen apart I’ve held the tools to put it together. So let's go. Back to it baby. I have to apologize to ________________. I haven’t been as present as I would like to be these days. It’s really hard to piece together what I’ve done day to day. Shout out to __________, ______ and ________, __________, ________, Shout out ________, _________, ___________