217
Did you know that I sometimes look at my art with the same satisfaction that an author might view his or her writing, or a musician might appreciate the music. If I were to describe the feeling of that evening in one word, it would be… home. Never before have I made such consistent gains. The community recognized the need for my work and its reaction as twin effects of the eternal Universe. One gentleman spoke to me at the silent auction table of strange items, one of which was an avocado green leather armless chair. He said he smelled embalming fluid. At that moment, to know that the only other real person in the world was in the same room, in the same dollhouse as I was, and that we were both crazy just made me laugh so hard. So when he asked why I was laughing, I did what any good friend would do – told him the truth. “Look at you! You’re grey! Then he told me that my work is “rubbish” and referred me to the usual change of co-ordinates (e.g. Kruskal-Szekeres). I can’t tell you how heartbroken I am about the whole thing. I know what you must suffer. I recognize the importance of what I’m doing here, and utilize well the opportunity to share. The funny thing is that he was just tipsy, I saw him at the cash register taking my work and placing it in a zipper bag.