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no room for hipsters

the occupation of Ashley and Levon

[ from a. addair who is listening to Levon Walker (New York City Spanks Levon Walker) ]

I gave up store-bought toothpaste but failed in making a cavity-fighting homemade version and now I have cavities.  Stupid hipster.  This would be funny if I had spare teeth.  Or dental insurance.

A few weeks ago, I decided to inquire within a charitable dental clinic for the uninsured.  I approached the front desk and found that the anxiety in my body had collected in my throat, and that my only choices we’re to remain silent or sob.

 Walking home, sniffling into my tissue, I realized that the anxiety stemmed from an uncertainty about my validity as an artist.

exploring the "why" behind painting. acrylic and pencil on canvas.

I didn’t feel good about asking for financial help because I believed that what I really should do was go get a job that would pay me enough to visit with a dentist on my own dime. 

This implies that the work I am doing now is not worthwhile.  I was equating financial provision with hard work and worth (thank you Benjamin  effing Franklin), which actually I don’t believe. 

With some counsel and thought I am working to shed this myth of our culture.  My work and objective is to create good art; this requires sacrifice  (and at least for today, the help of a dental clinic and Colgate) but it is my responsibility to order my life so.


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