Tonight's the Night

The stress dreams continue. Last night I was sitting in front of a mirror putting layer after layer of makeup on my face. I looked like a drag queen (not that that is expressly a bad thing) replete with rhinestones covering my chin and orange sequins on my cheeks. I was at a movie and all the makeup started to sweat off and make my skin look like a diaper rash nightmare, so I had to wash it all off and then I was just starring at my naked reflection for a really long time. Carl Jung says: I am doing all this stuff that is really scary (and rad too) and I want to hide behind my mask, but I can't. I have to wash it all off and stride boldly in to the void, just as I am, otherwise the point is lost. I made this mess now I have to clean it up. I thought having a little show, celebrating the release of the zine would be fun and easy...but it is exposing myself in a way I have never done before, and am not entirely comfortable with yet. I made it because I thought it was time to take this shit out of the living room for once and let it have a life of its own, but its all really personal too. I am having a hard time imagining everyone sitting around and looking at something I made, is it too lame and self aggrandizing, are the drawings worth a damn? Will people even give a shit at all? I DON"T KNOW!?!? For someone who has a fundamental fear and hatred of the unknown I sure have managed to whip up a frenzy of variables to get freaked out about. The secret is to act like your shit is so fucking amazing and everyone will follow suit right? That's a hard one, since as an artist I spend about half the time totally loving what I do, and the other half wanting to gouge my eyes out, burn everything I've ever made and go get a "real person" job. The zine is special I think (I've been working on it so long now that I have totally lost perspective). I would like to think that maybe, JUST MAYBE....something I made could make someone else feel something, like better about their life, or less alone, or so stoked they want to make one too. For all the art that has totally blown my mind and changed my life, I feel like this is a small offering to whatever strange goat-headed art god I pray to, in order to keep the love alive. Come to Kreuzberg tonight and watch me have a nervous breakdown/ the best night of my young life ( I wanted to say come watch me have nervous diarrhea, but that doesn't really encourage attendance now does it?).