29 April 2011

April 29, 2011

If God were to come to me today, like he did for Solomon that one time, and ask what I wanted, I would say, “Let me always know the perfect thing to say.”

I’ve been thinking about the whole idea of artist communities, trying to figure out why the idea sounds so repulsive to me, trying to figure out why I don’t want to go to events for artists or conferences for artists or weekend get-aways for artists, even though I like artists and even, from time to time, privately, have considered myself one. And I think the answer has something to do with my introversion and, yes, elitism, but mostly it has to do with big groups of artists being pretty annoying.

I bet they’re always talking about the latest thing they’re working on or whatever.

I’d rather surround myself with people who talk about gardening and business and video games and frisbees. I’d rather surround myself with people who talk about the things that normal people talk about — their families, their jobs, their lawns, their boredom.

I’d rather create in isolation.

I got a free breakfast sandwich at Starbucks this morning. There was a note attached that said: “Because you tried being a vegetarian that one time.” And I thought, Finally, It paid off.

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