I spent an inordinate amount of time today perusing the web trying to figure out how to sell my stuff. To be honest, I'm sick of it. According to the "experts," you have to be part carnival barker and part snake oil sales(person) in order to sell your art on the internet. Judging from the looks of the competition on sites such as Ebay, you have to pretty much sell your soul for a nickel also. If I feel like it and it happens, I'll just keep creating stuff until I drown in it. It's all vanity anyways. Today George Carlin died. Last week Tim Russert, next week, who knows? What's really depressing is that George Carlin was born on the exact same day, exact same year, as Jerry. Well, I really don't want to go there, but I guess the cruel reality is that we can keep on doing things to "defy" death, like creating art and in our deluded mind creating some sort of immortality, or just give into the hopelessness of it all. Today, I suppose, was giving into the hopelessness of it all. How depressing. Maybe tomorrow will be different and I'll squelch the negativity and resurrect the mask of optimism and sunshine and get out my paints and start daubing again. But today I'll wallow in the darkness of it all.