I’ve been in danger of lead poisioning for 12 years. I can’t afford bagel, I had only one shirt, I was thrown from street to street, I was hated, source of any critics. If it isn’t imagining my Muse, life sure is unbearable.
I am smiling, this spatial giant mushroom lining so lively on my canvas. I can’t wait to have it finished, I’ll have another million dollar.
Don’t worry, Muse. You need another luxury home, right? I’ll give you one with expensive car, watch, perfume, heel, decor, food in it. Like the last time you suddenly come to me after my first acknowledged painting, after you kicking my ribs for 12 years, I’ll always put you in the first place.