The process of selling art can seem so grimy.
There’s no requirement that an artist must make their living with art, but if a person would like to do so, then inevitably they’re going to bump into… this:
Or am I wrong about that? Surely there must be bubbles of authenticity? Free of pretentious jargon, posturing and lies, where artists simply sell their work, and buyers are there because of the work’s quality, not because of the wrapping paper of verbiage around it?
The conclusion seems poignant for lines:
There’s one last detail that’s too good not to share. The horse-farm artist plays in a band, and in this band, she performs with what looks like an electric guitar, but is actually a hollowed-out instrument with an MP3 player inside. She’s a karaoke instrumentalist. That’s not lying, it’s a performance of fakeness. The thought of it makes me smile. It’s hard out here for an artist.