Friday, June 19, 2009

sh*t i effing hate.

I am sitting in my friend, Jess' gallery. We are hanging artwork for her two-year anniversary show tomorrow. I brought a half empty bottle of Malbec, and she is supplying me with an endless offering of baby Health bars as attractive artists continuously breeze in and out with their works of art. This show, the together show, will represent the 40 artists who have presented their work at umber studios over the past two years. As I sit here, sweating into a small desk fan, I observe this vast array of art that could not be more contradictory and mismatching.

Read: This is going to be a ridiculously unique display of creative talent.

When I was in seventh grade, my brother let me borrow his Pink Floyd The Division Bell t-shirt. I wore it to school with a plaid flannel button-down shirt over it. The look was revolutionary among the 12 and 13-year-old crowd. The next day, Paula C. wore the same combo, except with a Pet Shop Boys t-shirt and a blue button-down. Needless to say, I was fu*king furious at her lame copycat behavior.

I love originality.

I hate mimicry.

"Copying is the sincerest form of flattery" says Mom.
Flattery? I think it's stealing. It's banal. It's pure rubbish behavior.

Come to the umber together show,
where copycats will be burned at the stake.

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