Posted by: DIYwriting | June 2, 2021

Passion

The passion in the artist’s eyes made me long for what I once had.  I once felt like I belonged to a group – to a community – but now I am not so sure.  It really started the weekend of my first “unofficial” show. 

My then boyfriend (also a starving artist) had set me up with a few well-connected artists in the community and I was able to have a table at one of the local art walks.  I was mildly successful, but the amount of hell I caught from my now ex-boyfriend ruined it.  Jealousy is a bitch. 


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