Self.
Sometimes you just have to accept the fact that you look the way you do. You will never be beautiful. No one will want to take your photo and hold some claim or entitlement to it , as if they had something to do with your aesthetics. You will not stand out, you will not shine as an individual. You will simply function physically as a contrast to others. But, you can make something beautiful. More lasting, not out of spite and bitter resentment for the beautiful people, but because it is inside of you. I can make beauty with my hands, with pens and paper, with cutouts and glue. I can be kind so I can produce a mood that is beautiful. I can hum and I can enjoy. No one will stop me on the street to snap my photo, no one will daze at my eyes, lips or legs. No one will utter “She’s so lucky” or fondle ideas of fucking me.But I will make things that people will love and admire because I love and admire my creations.
My oldest sister bought my niece a ticket to One Direction and all I got her was a Tiara.
- How do I compete with that?
- Are we creating a monster?
To pull myself out of my depressive slump, I moved my laptop out of my bed and onto my art desk.
I am truly an inspiration to you all.
I had a garage sale today, my first customer was an old man with a canary in a cage and he called me beautiful. I shared beer and cigs with a stranger in silence. A man told me about how he believes his 18month old nephew is a sage. A lady tried to do a cartwheel after I sold her some red velvet pants. I got sunburnt and played with dogs and even though I have not slept properly in days I feel good.
I have my portfolio interview tomorrow morning with RMIT and I am now way too tired to be stressed.
