Back when I thought I made art I went to the local art store in San Francisco. I bought a couple of sable brushes and some ink and was prancing around as one does in an art store.
As I exited the store I was greeted by a man (homelessness assumed) whose back was to me and the store. He proceeded to pull down his pants, furiously shit sputtering turds backwards while waving a mini american flag and shouting nonsense. It was in my general direction but didn't come close to reaching me.
I am not sure if it was in protest or joy, but I am pretty sure only one of us was a real artist.
Back when I thought I made art I went to the local art store in San Francisco. I bought a couple of sable brushes and some ink and was prancing around as one does in an art store.
As I exited the store I was greeted by a man (homelessness assumed) whose back was to me and the store. He proceeded to pull down his pants, furiously shit sputtering turds backwards while waving a mini american flag and shouting nonsense. It was in my general direction but didn't come close to reaching me.
I am not sure if it was in protest or joy, but I am pretty sure only one of us was a real artist.