Oh, dear. A case of not-being-able-to-take-constructive-criticism. Eh, I'd better learn.
Even so, if not a prune, I'm like that really obnoxious rabbit who runs about for ages eating all the vegetables out of the garden in the backyard and keeps knocking over Mrs-Next-Door's hydrangea plant, no matter how many rocks are thrown at me, no matter how many walnuts are shot at me by way of slingshot, no matter how much pet repellent or pest control or whatever.... I am a persistent little bugger. I won't stop until I get to a good place where I know I am supposed to be... wherever on earth that is... or maybe its not on earth...
But I admit, my feelings are hurt easily. And of course, I have those times where I question why I do art all day long and why I let all these things beat me up, which results in about five thousand dollars worth of Piccell wireless minutes while I freak out to my mom... and then end up basically concluding that I bring quite a bit of it on myself.
But that's also where a lot of my art comes from... that place I create from when I am hurt and upset. Who wants to make things without that creative, emotional energy? Also, bit of a side note, I am aware that this was a rather impulsive blog... but I thought the unedited splotch of how I feel and where I am with my art sums it up a lot better than trying to explain it.
A dopo!
Jorie
