It's Only Hot If You Say It Is
I think you have the wrong number. And my latest art show...
Nobody has a clue.
Some of us are just better at fooling themselves into believing they do.
I received 5 calls from Highland Elementary school. Call, ring once, hang up. Call again. I answered on the 5th repetition.
Hello, is this Mrs. Lindy?
No, I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong number.
So many people are convinced AI knows everything. But every 3rd response it gives me is an apology for having fucked something basic up again.
It’s good to think you’re kind of a big deal. Human tinctures really are. It’s also good to see nature in person and up close to remind you just how small, insignificant, and fragile you are as a body of one.
Two pieces of my art were accepted for an August group show. I’m elated, but more as an excuse to see close friends, than to see my artwork hang again.
It’s not an insecurity around what I create. Instead, my values are revisiting a younger version of me. 21 year old me. When getting the friend group out for a costumed Halloween of hilarious fun was more important than the actual holiday.
I don’t need celebrating. I need community.
That’s probably true for more of us than we are willing to say. We’ve perfected the art of the capable individual, every one of us miserable for having lost the plot.
A single cell from my body can do a bit of this and that. A whole host of cells can birth a new life into being. Make something’s out of what appear to be nothing’s.
The weatherman predicted a miserable 98°F day. It’s hot before it’s hot if you convince yourself it will be.
I’m so cool in the sun I’m wearing long pants to keep the chill off.
I haven’t bothered to confirm via thermometer. Whether measurable by science or not, the weatherman is wrong either way.
Gallery Deets
These two pieces will be on display at Shift Gallery in San Diego from August 12-29th. If you make it out on opening night, say hi! I’d love a chat.
