Some artists works like those of Thomas Kincaid seem to embody my internal struggle. I don't like Kincaid. He's just so commercial. You have to know there is a but coming-- But, the colors and the fairy-tale imagery appeal to a younger less cynical child me. I would never ever be caught painting something so happy, dreamy, disney over and over again for the rest of my life, just because it sells. BTW, I really hope he likes what he does. And good for him for making money doing it.
See, I really am torn. I admire an artist I think is super commercial for making money. In this case I may admire the idea of making money from art more than I admire the art itself. Does that make me shallow? I don't think so. It's about hope. The hope that my work could inspire and touch others, (not that Kincaid's work is very deep) and the hope that someday I too could live off selling my art.
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