I had a list of very practical reasons that I couldn’t make art: I didn’t have time. I didn’t have space for it. I didn’t have the right supplies. I didn’t know what to make….
All of those things really were true for me!!! I convinced myself so thoroughly of their immutability because if they were not true, then I would have to do something about it.
I would have to admit that I had a dream of being an artist. That was scary.
Artists are poor.
Artists are unstable.
I, on the other hand, had orchestrated an entire life in diametric opposition to all those things! I was not poor, I was not unstable, and I was doing a pretty good job of avoiding suffering… so far. …