I thought back to the days of when this didn't happen, and I was reminded of my very first ever art teacher. His name was David Searle and he lived out in the country with four giant dogs, a lot of land and horses, his house, and his studio. We knew him through church, and I guess at one point my parents were like "this little shit has been doodling ever since he was 2, we'll pay you to take him for a bit and teach him things," and that's how I got to know him. I can remember us doing certain lessons and some of the normal song and dance of "learning the basics" like draw an apple, apply shading, where's the source of light, let's think about color. And yeah, that was nice, but every lesson, towards the end, he'd get out a giant poster board and say "hey, I've got a game we can play- it's like free writing, but with art instead." Ok, cool, I'm game.

"I'll draw a line. Just a line. Any ol' kinda line. I can make it big, I can make it little, can make it squiggle or straight. And when I'm done, you draw one, and add it onto mine. And we'll take turns like that till we feel satisfied."

"Sure, that sounds fun."

And low and behold, that's where I really found myself when it came to art. I absolutely adore that time that I spent with him drawing line after line, seeing what we'd create together, and expanding that even further. It was so lovely, and it brought me such joy. And the best part? Mr. Searle caught on to that quick, and soon enough, we weren't doing the basics, we were just free drawing together, creating entire worlds from just our thoughts, the rules be damned. I felt so seen as a kid, and growing up for me wasn't like that at all, so here's this guy that made me feel like my own person for once, and even better, he liked what I made! Soon enough, we even separated our lines and we'd just draw our own shit side by side- he let me fly on my own and didn't even have to push me out of the nest, I just jumped.

It's crazy to look back on it now and think wow, that guy saw something in me, nourished it gently, and then let me be in it without telling me what to do. And here I am now, forcing myself to live outside of that and pretend like I'm willing to just forget what I like to do and simply make shit for other people. And yeah- fuck that.

If I make something.... and you just so happen to like it.... awesome. You can buy it if you want, but for the majority of my life, I've literally given away all of my art. (Thinking about it, I wonder how much of my art is actually out there in the world merely floating around and I don't even know it or recognize it!) I made it the way I wanted to, and if you wanna buy it or I think you deserve it, then it's yours. Otherwise..... No requests. No commissions. Don't ask me for shit unless it's you wanting to look at what I've already done, coz otherwise no, it's not happening.

Feels good. Feels good to say it. Do it for yourself, kids. And if someone likes it, great. If they don't? Who gives a fuck. If you're one of those people that can make it precisely how others want and make money like that, cool, props to you and you do you. I can appreciate your talent and drive and will admit that yes, I'm still gonna be jealous of that (because I'm human.) But in some weird way, there will always be a part of me that believes art is beyond money, and beyond stipulation.