Jimmy Rules the World or Why He Deleted His Facebook Account


There is a gig that some people recommend to me that I don't really expect to be feasible.  A photo exhibit.  It requires money.  Lots and lots.  Yes, money that makes the world go round.  It is somewhat a leap of faith as such investment could fail catastrophically.  I knew one artist who had great materials for an exhibit.  She used up her retirement savings to pay for the invitations, the gallery rental, promos, and food and drink for the guests.  (Yes, you read right - food and drink - people will not show up if you don't provide them.)  At the end of the day, she managed to sell a couple of prints that represented a tiny fraction of what she had spent.  Perhaps, she was just not lucky.  But I never really believed in luck.  Luck it seems to me is a very thin invisible wire between survival and disaster, and so is an illusion to think that people can keep their balance on it.

In the olden days, an aspiring artist may be able to find somebody to help kick start his venture.  One can find these generous supporters in social hang outs.  Andy Warhol, being a social butterfly, hanged out with people who he swindled to fund his projects.  I suppose nowadays with social medias like Facebook and Twitter, one can have some followings.  In my experience, quite a few of these "followers" don't really care about my art but merely wanted me to go and like their page.  It's the "I'll scratch your back, you scratch mine" approach.  Which drives me to frustration because I would not like something that is utter rubbish, which is mostly everything I've seen.  Perhaps the feeling is mutual.  People think that my work is dung but are willing to show contrived appreciation just to win back a favor.  I don't think that is my gig at all.  Selah.

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