Pretty Lady must tell you that the vast majority of you Have No Clue. You Have No Clue about so many things, that she does not know where to start; thus she has not started at all, today, with the snow silently blanketing her windows. She has been involved with Other Projects.
But she promises to give you people the sound metaphysical thrashing that you deserve, just as soon as her thoughts crystallize out of the postmodern muck within which she is currently floundering.
The fact is, Pretty Lady is putting her soul up for sale, and the process is a brutal one. It is making her Cranky. She is putting her brain through the funnel of Artspeak in the hopes of obtaining a Whopping Big Grant, and lest any of you decry this as Evil, she will send YOU her credit card statement and ask you how it is to be dealt with. The answer to that question should definitely produce enlightenment, as there is no way, in this physical world, that a logical answer will be forthcoming.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Emotional Outburst
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25 comments:
Do what I had to do, get a job and work LOTS of overtime. About 2 - 3 years worth of 60-72 hours a week should probably payoff most credit card debt.
But then there is the lottery one could invest in.
And I wouldn't call that evil. A person does need money. Just as long as you don't put the crucifix in urine..
Just as long as you don't put the crucifix in urine..
That's Been Done. You are SO behind the times.
The lottery is a tax on people who are bad at math, as are day jobs.
Also, Pretty Lady freaks people out, when she works a day job. She seems to have an effect on them rather like that waitress at Rose Pistola, who was certainly getting her Ph.D. in nuclear physics during the day, and waitressing at night. Despite her ruthless efficiency, absolute reliability and relentless good cheer, Pretty Lady's presence in the world of Day Jobs has a way of making people namelessly uncomfortable. Eventually they find a nameless excuse not to hire her anymore; at this point, she is probably unemployable.
Isn't it amazing how many people are afraid of strong women?
Probably more complex than that.
Morris and DC--let me just say that when I was very young, someone quoted Laurie Anderson at me: "Your eyes...it's a day's work...just...looking into them."
I find that most people don't want to work that hard, at work, every day.
;-)
Wow!
Is this gonna be sorta like the second coming?
Everyone should pull their own weight. If you don't feel comfortable with what you are doing (and that's how it sounds), look for something else.
prettylady said...
Morris and DC--let me just say that when I was very young, someone quoted Laurie Anderson at me: "Your eyes...it's a day's work...just...looking into them."
I find that most people don't want to work that hard, at work, every day.
;-)
8:11 PM
Don't you mean Loni Anderson?
As far as being unemployable.. blah, blah. You have to set your mind to work. Unemployable is by definition by oneself.
So, by your definition, I am bad at math? Seeing that I have a day job... I agree with the lottery part. Can't quite come out and say people who work day jobs are stupid?
Careful, lots of people work day jobs. Construction workers, cops, firemen, electrical workers, engineers(myself), people who make shiny new curly boots also work days.
So I will take it that you really don't care to work a job. Not to say your lazy. However, that does require you to be a bit more creative, does it not?
Anyways, good luck in getting the grant.
And I did know they did the crucifix in urine. However, if you did something dumb, I think I would have to find a new pretty lady to pick on from time to time.
Don't you mean Loni Anderson?
No, I mean Laurie Anderson.
Unemployable is by definition by oneself.
Seeing as how I am self-employed, I would fit that definition.
So I will take it that you really don't care to work a job.
I work a great number of jobs. Most of them pay less than nothing, however. So perhaps I am the one who is bad at math.
that does require you to be a bit more creative, does it not?
It does. Infinitely so.
if you did something dumb, I think I would have to find a new pretty lady to pick on
Sadly, then, this is Goodbye. For Pretty Lady has done an infinite number of dumb things, and will certainly continue to do an infinite number more.
But she has never done anything as remotely dumb, stupid, arrogant and lame as "Piss Christ," and she can assure you that she never will.
You GO. Do what you gotta do. Nothing evil about needing to take care of business.
Especially as we're pretty darn sure you won't be doing any *Piss Christs* with proceeds.
I've been wondering, myself, if they still had Art Grants floating around. Glad to hear they're still there, at least.
Sadly, then, this is Goodbye. For Pretty Lady has done an infinite number of dumb things, and will certainly continue to do an infinite number more.
But she has never done anything as remotely dumb, stupid, arrogant and lame as "Piss Christ," and she can assure you that she never will.
Well, see there you go. You didn't do anything dumb.
.
.
.
so there.
.
.
Would you still marry me?
Welcome to being a grownup dear sweet heart.
When I was young, I too had grand plans and great talent. I saw things no one else saw. I thought thoughts so new and special they could not even be adequately communicated, but still I tried upon occassion. I suffered for my art. I longed for understanding. I yearned to make my mark on the whole world. I knew I'd be discovered some day soon. My soul ached to find its true place. I knew with all my heart that I was special, unique, and not appreciated enough.
And I still have days like that.
But for the most part, I ended up living a real life. One without all the angst and passion I knew when I was younger.
I gradually realized:
That everyone is special in some way, even if not to my taste.
That staying alive and learning to survive requires some degree of compromise and flexibility in many ways.
That not every person who disagreed with me or had different values was wrong or stupid or sightless; they were just different and different is not always wrong.
That being a straving artist may sound romantic and noble, but in reality it really is a waste of time and quite painful.
That I was attracting pain to my life by not allowing myself to embrace and enjoy the normal things that give comfort to most people.
That every choice has consquences, but not every consequence is a life and death situation.
That constant roller coaster rides (in terms of finances, emotions, or life in general) are for the very young or the extremely suicidal.
That while doing things simply to make money was not very rewarding, neither was starving or declaring bankruptcy.
So, I went to law school (at age 31). And I now still do artistic things - just for fun & on the side.
I admire those who make their living doing art/theater etc. I just realized that it takes more then talent, perserverance and desire, to do that. It also takes a ton of good luck. Not all those who make a living in "the arts" are the most talented. Not by half.
I still have debts I'm slowly paying off (something needs to be done about the Grasshopper mentality encouraged by society...play and be merry today, for tomorrow may never come = a sure way to go into debt..for tommorrows keep coming pretty regularly!).
But I have made peace with being normal. I have learned to enjoy being content. And I am so old that I know, for sure, that I do not and cannot ever know everything.
I encourage you to follow your dreams. But don't get too addicted to the fumes off that bus you are following, and don't follow it as it drives off a cliff. Self-preservation should be your first order of business, in every day!
I wish you luck, love, financial stability, and most of all peace in your life!
From the Voxery: "It is not a real party until people are doing half-naked contact improv to Ministry, or the Pixies, and the floor is soaking wet with respectably clear fluids, and the tequila bottles are empty even of their worms. Period."
I gave up tequila for vodka after college. The people I ended up drinking with changed, and Russians believe it is rude, or perhaps even bad luck to not finish a bottle once opened. So that means that if it's just two of you left and three-quarters of a bottle of Русский Стандарт (Russian Standard)... You simply must drink it.
This led to more than one occasion of almost freezing to death while passed out in my car. Goddamn diesel glowplugs... Or the cold, greycloud mornings, with a hangover so bad that the cacaphony of the snow falling on the rusty fire escape outside the window sounds like panzerfaust fire in the pre-dawn gloom. Black spots swim in your vision, until the realization that the toilet you just puked in is not yours, and that you have absolutely no idea where the hell you are. Cold water and rough soap on your hands and face, and your t-shirt makes a poor towel. You cling to the wall for support as you edge down the cracked stucco hallway, looking for the room where you came from, because that room contains the best chance of finding your pants. Whereupon you spy your hostess, asleep beneath the covers, not nearly as beautiful as she was the night before, when she was bathed in the warm glow of kerosene lanterns and tumblers of vodka with cloves in them. Picking your pants up off of the floor, you shake out a cigarette from the rumpled pack and spark the gunmetal silver Zippo, warming your fingers over the wick as you light the morning's first smoke.
Yeah, I had to give up the parties and the glamorous life, for it certainly would have killed me, in the end.
Good God, I really have acquired another set of parents, plus one indefatigable would be fiancé. Although I suspect Starbuck would not continue proposing if he felt he had a genuine chance of being accepted. ;-)
Terrymum, I went to massage therapy school at age 30; once my practice reaches the word-of-mouth tipping point, I earn as much per hour as an entry-level lawyer. And I still have time to paint. So I'm not entirely a delusional flibbertigibbet.
Crom, this would never have happened to you if you'd stuck to tequila. Straight shots, not with ice or in a margarita, or god forbid those vile 'palomas.'
Not to boast or anything, but Pretty Lady has never puked from drinking, had a blackout, had sex with someone she shouldn't have (well, except for those entire relationships...) or otherwise let alcohol get too much the best of her. She has spent a few mornings sitting in sunbeams, staring into space, or huddled up under three comfortors, that is all.
But those days are mostly in the past, as well. It was just that ridiculous namby-pamby video that set her off. It is a terrible pity when people grow up and have babies without ever having partied properly.
Awww crap, I cant believe I spelt grammar wrong. Its funny but that's outweighed by the embarrassment.
Bleh :-/
prettylady said...
Good God, I really have acquired another set of parents, plus one indefatigable would be fiancé. Although I suspect Starbuck would not continue proposing if he felt he had a genuine chance of being accepted. ;-)
In my defense, yes I would still propose if I knew you said yes.
However, you would do well for yourself to never accept a proposal or even a date with me.
I am the one your mother warned you about. I am evil scum and I deserve to be taken out to the public square and be put to a sudden death with a shotgun to the head. BLAMMM!
But I do hope that God is forgiving as he said he is. Otherwise I don't have a chance.
btw, what are the color of your eyes?
Oh, poor, poor BNP, Pretty Lady feels terrible. She succumbed to a moment of Pure Evil. She is very sorry, and hopes you will forgive her. Just be yourself, dear, and everything will be fine.
Starbuck, alas, your cunning attempt at Reverse Psychology comes Too Late. You are on to Pretty Lady, she has no doubt. You are making a Valiant Attempt. But alas, she sees through to the decency in your soul, and she calls your bluff. You are just pretending.
Oh: Blue. And that is not a fib, or a Persona. They are rather strikingly so, actually.
Well, you are pretty smart too.
Mine are brown.
Pretending, perhaps a bit.
Decent? perhaps... atleast now I am. At one time I had serious potential to be really bad.. I turned on that and became a Christian instead. Never, ever regreted that decision.
I would like to see a picture of your eyes. In color, not black and white.
btw, where were you when I was 25?
(that would have put you at around 20 I think)
Oh well, we were light years apart in our world. ha!
Don't jostle so, Starbuck!
There's plenty of room up here on the "pine" tree. Now take your place.
Pine trees have needles that stuck you in the butt when you sit in them. I think I will stay in the oak trees... atleast they will feed you when you get squirrely
HA! Good girl! A back up career is nothing to be ashamed of or avoid. Even A. Renoir recognized that keeping body and soul together was a necessity to anyone who wanted to live to make art another day.
And I will accept the designation. One can never have too many children...or REAL parents.... One of the reasons for my name is that I do tend to be maternal...even when I was but a wee lass...Never played with dolls. Just have a knack for loving and nurturing.
Crom, my ersatz spouse, I too prefer vodka (or really good scotch) if I'm drinking hard, but our "daughter" PL takes after me in the drinking dpt. it seems.
I used to be able to out-drink any man alive, no matter his size. That was greatly upsetting to the boys who were trying so hard to take advantage. I have never passed out. I have only been sick a few rare exceptions, and mostly when I got older and my liver was not as good. And I do not regret anything done while intoxicated - because I knew what I was doing at the time, even if I ultimately decided not to keep doing it!
Liquor makes people MORE of what they are, so I become quite friendly, and horney, if I imbibe. Being now finally happily married, to a man 11 years my junior, I do not drink as much or as frequently. Despite having a home bar that is better stocked then many restaurants.
Finally, do not be deceived by men who say they are evil just so you think they are not. They are usually telling the truth. They just hope you will be taken in by their candor, just long enough to allow them a taste of your honey.
As far as that goes, I can't imagine grant applications are all that much different from the old patronage system. We've just changed from pleasing noblemen to grant comittees.
Best wishes with the grant. I was looking at your artwork on your website and wishing I wasn't broke. Thank you for putting it online. Perhaps someday.
Thank you, Boysmom! I have High Hopes that the new paintings will be infinitely better.
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