I have retired as an artist – it has been too troubling.
A job at the post office will suit me just fine. Or the dockyard, or the bread factory, the yoghurt factory, the cereal factory. Give employment to my limbs and heart, but leave my brain out of this. I want to send my brain on holiday, rest my mind awhile, let my thoughts wander where they will.
Alright, alright, I’m not retiring of course, but I don’t want to practice at the moment. And when I do, it will be in a different way. In my way. No more community work.