i'm starting to realize my work doesn't belong in galleries.
it belongs outside.
i didn't make it for some rich guy to glance at as he adjusts his tie and goes for another glass of wine.
"i'll take the red."
take your shoes off, come see my work where it was made. watch your head, don't step there. see it. feel it. embrace it the way the surrounding trees have.
it's raining now, but who cares? that man in the tie would. good thing i'm not making art for him.
what a prick.