One day about ten years ago I was on my way to work (I think this must’ve been the radio station, or the bank, I forget) after I’d gotten out of art school. I don’t remember why, but I stopped at a Pancake House where I ran into one of my (literally) old Fine Arts professors (God rest him). After I’d greeted him he was all
‘So, what are you doing now?’
‘Working, Sir.’
‘Of course, you would be.’
—which was as much as to say, ‘Of course you have a ‘real job’—your paintings suck, so you need one.’
‘So, what are you doing now?’
‘Working, Sir.’
‘Of course, you would be.’
—which was as much as to say, ‘Of course you have a ‘real job’—your paintings suck, so you need one.’
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