STREET? YOU AIN'T STREET.

   I didn't hunt this morning. It's sixty degrees and raining off and on. I decided to get up at 7:00 am, check in with my facebook fags and see what's been happening while I slept. I've tried to load up my friends list with as many artfags as I can. I don't need to see baby pictures or sunsets from planes. I want to know what's going on in the so-called artworld. Of course if you shoot a big one....post away.
   My first encounter was with Jane Harris, an art history prof. at SVA. She had posted an opinion. She was dismayed concerning artists who seemed down with OWS jetting off to Miami Basel to suck up to the 1%. Now, I wouldn't be caught dead at Miami Basel, but I don't begrudge any artist exchanging finger food and bon mots with the rich if they can get themselves to that shindig on somebody's tip. That said, I agree how distastefully the whole thing is. My comment was "Blame the game not the playa." Well, then followed a flurry of comments, pro and con for sucking cock under the table of the privileged. I couldn't resist. I weighed in on the benefits of a day job and the failings of academia to properly warn the glut of MFA's coming into the market that there's no room for them. Of course I ended with a holier- than- thou proclamation of "strapping on the hammer and going to work."
   In reality I took off work today to wash my hunting clothes, find all my muzzle loader crap, sight in the gun, move my pop up stand, and of course, write this blog and argue with artfags on facebook. It's fucking 60 DEGREES! Nothing's gonna move until the temps drop. Good news is- it's coming. So, before I drive to Monticello to dry my warm clothes, let me just say....... I have worked my entire career at something other than what I wanted to be doing, only to find out I had developed my own unique type of artist. Artist....not art. It's the artist as working man. I failed in quitting my day job, only to make my day job my art. WSSP, WSSP II, and the HOLLIE WITCHEY PROJECT are testament to my success in this effort. I don't sell my art perse, rather a more useful skill like carpentry. All my personalities are complete failures. MO David, Richard Mauwra, Kiristan Kohl, Tobias Yves Zintel are big disappointments. We fucking burn MONEY in the Church of the Little Green Man.  But Mike Osterhout (the carpenter/artist) still pays the bills. My street cred. is intact. You think you're street? You better check under the table. You ain't street.