Last night I painted a small wooden toolbox in the theme of The Nightmare Before Christmas, for someone else’s school project. The fact that there is a school that is assigning college students the project of building a a mini toolbox and decorating it for a grade is beyond me, but the fact that I sat there enjoying painting something really shitty-like sent me into some sort of mega-crushing haze of apathy for my trade. I felt like I was playing craft hour at my therapists office, which I fired and never replaced, and I was conjuring everything that represents “doom” in my dawdling life. No offense to those who enjoy their crafts, but man…fuck that. I now know I need to paint the biggest most impacting painting of my career before I become used to being a trade artist and not a visual storyteller. I need to exist again.