Went to gallery last weekend, held at some shitty little warehouse where the only thing interesting was the bartender and her complete lack of caring.
Anyways I spoke with one of the artists there trying to get what their take on there on piece was and he had the gall to say , "Don't know I was drunk." Really? So artists take a note from this failure's book and just kill yourself if you can't even find passion or reason for your work!
Artist suicides are apparently as common here as they are in New York I've discovered. I guess stereotypes hold true regardless of location.
Please someone let me know where the true talent lies in this city!
No comments:
Post a Comment