by Catherine King
In my last posting, I mentioned "violent nameless ones," and the "putrid potshots of secret spineless little things."
As if on cue, within six hours, out crawls the simperingly sadistic Ian A. Wender, an artist, he says, at Holga's. Pretty fast on the keyboard, there, Ian. You better not be getting obsessed, loser.
In long, unsolicited e-mails, Ian tries desperately to impress my husband with his vast reading skills (and a lot of other things, too-- weird!). Well, he may be reading but he's not comprehending. Now it's getting rather wearing for me because I have to refer Ian back to the very introduction of my post, wherein I clearly stated:
I can tell that some of my most violent (about art!?) and cowardly critics aren't familiar with some of my earlier work. The vicious nameless ones would hold their tongues, for all the influence they'll have on me.
What part of "hold your tongue" do these venomous toads not understand, I wonder?
Posted by Jerome at December 16, 2004 06:42 AM | TrackBack