The Wonder of Being an Artist

I miss staying at home, cleaning, and painting. Working on the computer for hours at a time. I'm so busy all the time now and I'll get more jammed up as time goes by because I have more I want to do. There's writing, painting, visiting my friends and more. I'm driving again so it's time.
When I could get out of bed after being in it for the month of August, I was afraid to drive. So I didn't until about a week ago. In that time, two of my closest friends moved. Now, Philly has a transit strike on, so the streets are parking lots anywhere near rush hour. Theresa's Ardmore calls, and as soon as the buses are riding the streets, so will I. Theresa is my friend whose artwork wins all kinds of competitions, gets grants, sells like very expensive big hotcakes, and is shown all over the world. (She thinks she's not good enough because her degrees aren't in Art. hahaha Silly.) On the other hand, my wonderful friend Nancy thinks her work is crap and I can't imagine why. She graduated from art school but knows that means nothing. I like her work though.
And today, I found out what happened to some unfriendly artist I went to school with. He started an art school which teaches other aspiring artists how to paint realistically. He's very good at it, in fact, way better than the (awful) portrait artists the New York Times was extolling last week. Like I said, he was a cold character so I won't mention his name unless somebody asks personally.
I noticed one of my old teachers--Barclay Hendricks was reviewed in the NY Times and they said his old stuff was better than the new. They showed a picture from more than ten years ago which did look pretty good. In the art world, names are worshipped for a few years when artists graduate from school and then forgotten. It's just another form of honoring youth and vitality. And stupid. Empty and phony.
I really want to start talking about my incredible work experiences now that I'm finished with that whole world. I have great stories of blow jobs in cars to get jobs--no, not me--and masturbation combined with phone sex to terrify an assistant--also not me. But they'll hold. Today was about Art. I did my first Funny Fine Art commissioned drawing today. I've done my family and my animals, but never anyone else. People are asking and it's very hard. I never tried to program my imagination. My drawings just flow out of my unconscious and who thinks about acquaintances? It looks as though I can do it though. I'm pretty cynical, but about art, I'm truly grateful. My parents weren't artists and I wasn't a prodigy. I simply loved art with all my heart and pursued it all my life. For whatever talent I have, I am forever always thankful. I've never gotten complacent about being able to draw what I see, or create a picture that tickles my fancy. If I like a painting, I love it; I admire it hourly minute by minute more than a precious jewel. I made this...it's wonderful..and it makes me happy.