A Permanent Attempt at Value
There was a time when I wouldn’t pay for art supplies. Out of a deep-seated sense of spite toward the concept of paying for it, I refused to purchase anything to draw with for a long time. The result? A bunch of random sketches with the only thing that was available when I was trying to kill (or waste) time at work.
You’ll notice that some of them are drawn on a page torn from a magazine or on a wooden desk. Yeah, those are gone now – along with many others that probably ended up going the way of the dodo. But that was sort of the appeal. I didn’t pay to create it, and the person who found it didn’t pay to acquire it. The value was either fluid or non-existent.
It kept my art conceptually anarchistic while maintaining an ethic that appeared consistent. I’m older now.