.37.

I don't know why I struggle so hard against success.

But every time I'm supposed to push myself to create something that might earn me money, or a spot in a group show, or anything that might actually help advance my career I just suddenly freeze up. I get headaches and feel sick. I don't want to do it. It's boring me and I'm done with it before I even completed the task.

Right now, I want to apply for a keyholder position at a silkscreening studio. What it entails is that I get 24-hour access for free for an entire year. I'll have to bring my own supplies, but I'll have use of their machines and presses, which is all I really need. And I won't be spending $250/month as is the usual fee.

But it requires a resume, which I did write up, and a letter of intent. That's what really gets me. All I want to do is continue pursuing my love of naked ladies and twisted chimeras. And combine that into one lovely image. But I don't think that anyone will care for what I'm doing. Nor will it be "intelligent" enough or have enough "depth" to it the way I think that all fine artists think. It's silly of me and maybe reveals the self-conscious little girl inside of me, but I really don't think anyone views me as intelligent. Witty and clever, yes. But I'm not a "thinker;" a philosopher.

So I really need to write this up and sound intelligent enough to be given this and the whole thing just makes me want to hide under the covers. But it's something that I really and truly want. So I should probably get on that before September is already here. Provided I can stop hyperventilating long enough to compose something.