My friend Christine and I had many intriguing conversations and many fine laughs and much fine food today. At one point, we were discussing folks who thoughtlessly play art critic in public-- from online forum readers disparaging public artwork as a waste of time to fellow cafe-goers who feel the need to comment on my art. One conversation went like this, to the best of my remembering and storytelling abilities:
Me: So i'm sitting at The Coffee Park, painting thank-you cards, and this lady walks over and looks over my shoulder and says in this kindergarten teacher sing-song voice, "Oh, aren't those nice! Look at those pretty paintings! You did a very good job!"
Like I care what she thinks! Like I need a stranger 3 years plus or minus my age to confirm that my paintings are "pretty"! I don't need a freakin' gold star sticker from some nosy, self-important mommy to validate my art!
Christine: (breaks up snorting and laughing)
Me: Whah? That I want my art to be taken seriously?
Christine: It's just that you have a smiley face sticker on your nose.
And one on your cheek, and they're all over your shirt... so... like... you *did* get your sticker!
And, yeah, it was true. I had, like, 20 smiley face stickers all over my face and chest. I had a smiley face pasty. Thanks, Biscuit.
Proof, yet again, that even if I want my art to be taken seriously... I don't really find the need to be taken seriously myself. We had a good laugh at that one.