Several months ago, I submitted some samples of my work to the owner of an online nursery store. The woman's response was sweet, describing the pieces as "lovely, but too dark for the age group." Now, rejection letters don't get any better than that, but I was at a loss as to how any take on "Rub-a-dub-dub" could be construed as "dark". Or, maybe they just sucked, who knows?
Today I was working on my latest, listening to the Rhap. I take a perverse glee in rocking out the nu-metal while drawing nursery rhymes--there's something so deliciously wrong in it. But it occured to me that maybe I wasn't doing myself any favors. That as I sat, singing over my work in a shamanic pose, I may have been investing every line, every color with what can only be called Hard Core Godlessness. Was Serj Tankian unwittingly polluting my stuff? Did this poor matronly store-owner see my picture of the Ant and the Grasshopper and think "nicotine, valium, vicodin, marjuana, ecstasy, and alcohol"? Are my pieces simply that potent?
And finally, can my delusions range any farther?
No comments:
Post a Comment