Notes to Myself, part 1.

I think I might know where to go from here.  Need, crisper, clearer images, from a better camera- more epic proportions.  Need to play with scale and camera angles, orientation. Have all the parts, just need to re-organize.

Look at more art. Be more sensitive to what artists are doing.  Try to grow as an artist and scholar.  Quit being at once both self-doubting and complacent.

I’m afraid for the future, but I also know that in a day to day sense, my vision is short-sighted.  I think about what the next months will be like instead of what I CAN do in years to come.  I’ve always had a job in some capacity, an apartment, horrible and crappy as they were, and in retrospect, none of that matters.  Who cares that in 2003 I lived with a leaky bathtub, or that I only made $11/hour?  I care that I “suffer”, but the suffering is only temporary.  Those previous situations didn’t ruin my life.  The two issues that do stick out were: Letting myself be taken advantage of in the corporate world and not making art, and those things were constants under different living conditions.  In years to come, the art is the only thing that matters.  Do I really give a fuck that Henry Darger was a janitor in comparison to the treasure trove he left behind?  Would I discredit the man for not being a professional?  So what’s the difference if that happens to me?

Art must endure, no matter what.