Sold a few
prints this week
to a few idiots
with minds
like mine.
Hopefully
they're not
quasi-artsy types
who think that
what I create
is in vogue.
My clean lines,
wide contrast,
simple subjects,
all these ideas
entering my camera
as my jeep blows
up in the middle
of nowhere.
And I get scared
and run for home.
And I look at my
photos and wonder
where they came
from and what they
mean exactly.
And they try to tell
me, but I believe only
what I want.
And others see them
and believe
only what they want.
And they say "now here's
something new and original."
And they have the audacity
to believe they can own a piece
of what I fight to create
since they're own lives
are so lacking in everything
they think I represent.
And they pay me for that.
They must be very desperate.
02/27/02