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Sometimes when I'm alone in my room I'll get really pissed off and think to myself that I've made shit that belongs in galleries and don't want to pretend anymore that it doesn't. I don't own frames to put my work in; I don't exactly know the frame dimensions are that I should aim for when I'm cutting my drawings out by heart; I don't know the people to call and I hate phone calls to begin with. 

I mean, I know the 80's was a real long time ago but there's clearly a market for stuff like Keith Haring out there. Maybe I just haven't had enough people tell me I'm garbage yet but I think I've got a fighting chance. My art is pretty influenced by the 80's New York scene, graffiti, cartoons, all kinds of stuff. 

I can even name names! Matisse, Dali, Picasso, Keith Haring (duh), Peter Deligdisch (Maybe not pretentious enough of a name drop to snag those sweet juicy investor bucks but it's there.), and, well, that's pretty much it. What really sucks about all this is that whatever I do for respect here will probably only really matter when I'm dead and no-one can ask me questions about it.