Right? Back in 1978, lazy, uninspired morons (Freud’s definition of 8 to 12 year old mentality) got mocked for being so non-disruptively apathetic. That’s why I stayed in my room many autumn days and nights dreaming by the window. If someone knocked at the door, I’d run to my room and hide. To me it was perfectly normal then, as it is now. Of course if it was a friend, I’d feel foolish for running, but for all the knocks at my parent’s door, the friend knock was very seldom. So overall I believe hiding from others is okay, especially if one believes like Sartre, that Hell is other people. Who wouldn’t run from Hell if given an escape route? Especially one that led to a cozy, thick blue shag carpet?
Lots of paintings on the walls for my show next weekend. Don’t think I won’t be hiding.