A couple of times a year, San Francisco has the brilliant idea to host a phenomenon called "OpenStudios", where self-declared artists collectively open their studios to the public, in hopes of luring in the elite and selling their wares.
What ACTUALLY happens, though, is that a bunch of mediocre-at-best crafters play host to droves of bored hipsters that shuffle in in search of free 2-buck-Chuck and plates of cheese and stale crackers, who engage in idle banter of feigned interests.
I was so humbled, I said yes and gave him my email address.
Later, a photographer 'artist' said I had interesting eyes and asked me to pose for her. A couple flashes later, I left.
On the way home I took my sad little self to the movies to see Meet Monica Velour. I had been looking forward to it and it did not disappoint. I drank a giant diet coke and felt a little better.
Lesson? When all else fails, turn to limited-release indie films about aging porn stars.
current mood: cynical
current music: arcade fire - rococo