In therapy I talk about my frustration at another girl artist who has packaged herself in a more sanitized version of my known persona. Only you know, with the financial means to hire a publicist and get a write up at a shall-be-unnamed culture site. Most other artists I know understand, know how long I've been performing with knives or doing work that channeled anger or dealt with mental illness issues, etc. Though there's always the obligatory paternalistic guy telling me to "just make art for myself" like that's the solution to everything.

Bitches, please. Of course I make art for myself. All artists make art for themselves, unless they've become completely soulless hacks. Even if their work doesn't speak to me, I would think it's something they're passionate about. But beyond that? Why should I be content to be be docile, passive, and uncomplaining when someone imitates me and gets the pat on the head and the cookie? Are male artists given that kind of advice when these things happen? Especially when I've thought of how many people over the years have castigated me for being "too negative", "too intense", "too fierce"...

I guess it's like the old chestnut I've heard, something about poor people having craziness and more well off people having "eccentricities"...ok so I have a diagnosis, a psycho-social and a letter fro social security. But you know what I mean.

Sphinx Angel

Lorca wrote about the concept of duende. The word roughly translates to something like "imp", but he meant it as a dark, earthy yet fiery creative force, like a molten lava. Something powerful and intense. Like what the creative force should be allowed to be when it overtakes you.