Sign in if you are an artist* whose genius has not been recognised in your lifetime and you have tight hamstrings.
Signing in.
*artist meaning painter, poet, musician, writer, director, actor, comedian, sculptor or you thought once you might dabble in any of the aforementioned and be bloody brilliant.
In. Hamstrings wrecked, vocation in ruins.
van gogh gouges out his eyes in a futile attempt to unsee this horrendous thread bearing his name
Not signing in. I’m an artist but my daily yoga sessions have the hammers in good nick.
That’s ok. Vincent was rejected during his life too. Some of us are too beautiful for this world.
I got a silver star for painting a silage outfit when I was about 6.
Some townie bitch got the gold for her effort at a dandelion.
I hung up my easel that very day.
I got a silver medal in the communtity games county finals for modelling (with plastasine/mala/marla)
Even Peter G??? Something on your mind there pal?
You ,pal.
Why are you thinking about me?
Signing in. Very tight hammys and I’m clearly a genius.
With a start he was awoken
From the middle of a dream
He’s making movies in his head
That never will be seen
He’s holding Oscars in his hands
And kissing beauty queens
What might have been
What might have been
When we were young
What a song 
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they’ll listen now.
Just bumping this as it should sit beside the “Injuries” thread by rights
