So, I've been waiting for my father to notice my art for maybe two or three years, now. He's never shown any interest in it. I"m in college now, and I have a well organized and documented portfolio with me that I just needed him to look at. I was tired of trying to get him to be interested all on his own. So when I arrived at his house yesterday, I told him that I brought all my art for him to see. I told him several times during the day. My portfolio and draftings sat on the coffee table all night. He even moved them to put his feet up. He smoked five ciggarettes in a row while we sat on the porch. We went back inside. And we just sat. Eventually he started yawning and said he was going to bed.

fucking a.

SoI said "are you going to look at my art at all?"

and he said "oh, maybe tomorrow." I looked very dissapointed. So he felt bad and picked up the portfolio- and flipped through it like...jesus, I don't know. A store catalouge. And then he was done. "Wow, sweetie.That's nice."

and that's all I get.

I told him how much this upset me- and he tried to explain. He said that he had no eye for art. Literally. He said that if he were to look at a picasso and then look at something of mine- he honest to god just wouldn't know the difference. He didn't understand how to appreciate my art. He looked at it, and what else was there to do?

I wanted him to STARE at it. I wanted him to squint and investigate it. I wanted him to try and touch all my art to see if it was real or not.

I just thought that if I created a human being- if i spawned a human life- and that human life could create things that I never could- it would be as if i created those things by proxy. I thought that maybe daddy might marvel at the fact that in some weird way- all this art spawns from him. and his DNA. He created- and isn't that the most amazing thing?

But I guess only I see it that way.

When it comes down to it- I realized today that everything I see is beautiful. I think all things are beautiful. And I want to paint them- or draw them. But even now I really dont' feel that I have to- I can just open my eyes and look everywhere. I see things everywhere. My father can't see the things I see, I guess. He doesn't get it. At all. And he knows that. But what does he see?

Do the things I see just fade for him? Does he not see how a spoon curves- or how the skin on the back of my hand crinkles? Does he see my skin splitting and breaking from all the exposure to paints? I guess not.

But now at least I feel confident that this isn't just something i picked up for fun. I think I have a predisposistion to create things to look at. And that makes me feel pretty good considering that I decided to do this for a living.

But I felt like making some art tonigt- so I made this using my father's mouse and macromedia fireworks. Which was a BITCH and kept shutting down on me. I would've rather used anything else but sadly this is the only thing he has. And I've never used fireworks before, so I'm pretty sure I didn't use the program properly. But hey.

When I made this I was listening to that one song by Damien Jurado...

you told all your friends
i'm someone you'll forget
he's out there setting fires to
the demons in his head

once you called a perfect love
you now call it accident
do you sit with your photo books
wondering where it went?

it was clearly never meant to be.