Sometimes I get asked why I make art. I think I’ll start quoting this poem: “I’m trying to get Goldilocks to go home.” I’m not sure what it means, but it feels right.
Did you know in the original Story Of The Three Bears it wasn’t a little girl, but a nasty old woman who enters the Bear residence?
An old hairy woman (who is described at various points in the story as impudent, bad, foul-mouthed, ugly, dirty and a vagrant deserving of a stint in the House of Correction) discovers the bears’ dwelling. After assuring herself no one is about, she enters the house. The old woman eats the Wee Bear’s porridge, then settles into his chair and breaks it. Prowling about, she finds the bear’s beds and falls asleep in Wee Bear’s bed. The climax of the tale is reached when the bears return. Wee Bear finds the old woman in his bed and cries, “Somebody has been lying in my bed,—and here she is!” The old woman starts up, jumps from the window, and is never seen again.
Yeah, that’s what it’s like to create sometimes. There’s a foul-mouthed, dirty old woman up in my brain, and she has to eat all my soup, break my chair, and dirty my bed until I can catch her and throw her out the window.