Why I Rely On Hennessey Youngman

 I interred at the school of art

When in doubt, I look to Hennessey Youngman for advice. His playful, polemical, inimical speak is something that can lull me into a nice torpor. I can listen to it on a loop as I dream. It’s bright as a Pollack in his blue phase, dirty as Picasso’s life, and clear cut as any worthy Moreau.

Art Thoughtz is naught to balk at. It’s replete with sound tips and even wiser words. Each time my acrylics spill upon the clear palette, I hear him. Clear. Clear like my conscious which would otherwise be dissipating if I listened to anyone else. If anyone else altered my colours, they would be damned. Youngman cannot alter shit though. He is a fairey upon my pulls, the ink in my well, and the vegetal in my paints.

One could conceivably dirty themselves with oils and stark hues. One could conceivably cover themselves in a smock with a paint brush in maw, maligned with truths about what painter sucks. One could conceivably do that.. One could also grow a sack, listen to the statutory word of Hennessey Youngman, and make something of their life. I would be deigned to air on the side of ‘you can do it’, but Modigliani has me thinking otherwise.

-Robert Kijowski

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One Response to “Why I Rely On Hennessey Youngman”

  1. Igotthisbitch says:

    Nigga needs a grant

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