Give Me One Reason To Stay Here

I've failed at being the one thing I was born to be. A struggling artist. Actually..I'm still struggling. I'm just struggling at struggling really. I am making a departure from struggling artist to tortured artist, perhaps I'm moving higher in the food chain. No no last time I checked my balance I was still down the bottom.

I was raised by wolves, I'm permanently off your christmas* 'card' list, and I've got a wardrobe full of crappy paintings and a bruised ego. I gave all my paintings to my little sister cause she's no art critic, she wont laugh at me. She thinks they are "mad'. I think I'M MAD. You think I'm a joke. And I laugh.

On second thought perhaps she is an art critic. She called my painting "kinda ugly". It's pretty depressing when the only people who want your paintings are little kids or disillusioned family members (keeping in mind I was raised by wolves.) And heck they wont even pay money for them! Maybe selling art is not about the quality of your painting at all, but your skills as a salesman. If that's the case then I have no hope. I'm too kind. I can't rip people off. I can't tell them it's a beautiful picture if it's really half arsed. And that is where my 2 academic years of painting have left me. With 9 out of 10 paintings half arsed or mediocre. And the special ones I'm keeping for myself, as a sad reminder that I have some talent, but not nearly enough.

*I refuse to capitalise christmas because it just aint that great so take that spellcheck!