Each time I have an opening, I spend weeks in advance, dreaming at
night of defecating in public; that's just part of my make-up, what I pay for
getting to show my work. So 2013 was in large part filled with shitty dreams.
Over the holidays, my wife and I were talking with a number of artists and discovered many of them have similar scatological visions during their sleeping hours.
But now it's 2014, back to the studio, and how do the dreams deal with that? Last night, after celebrating New Year's Eve, I awoke to nightmare after nightmare of getting fired: in one John Maeda fired me for not being able to design well; in another I lost my job at the paper company I worked for when I was young, fired by a student who didn't like my teaching manner; it went on and on and on.
What can a guy do? But wish you a happy new year. And for all of you who are artists: may your shitty dreams come true.
