I am a real person with a real life- or, you know, as real as it can be in this thing we call reality. I'm making my debut as an artist in an art show next week. Everyone I know, I give them this card and tell them to come! Free food! Free music! Come! Free entertainment! And I wonder if I am harassing them, asking them to come and see my childish artwork. I am so unsophisticated. At least, though, I am not selling Amway or anything. But I forgive you, if you are selling me Amway, because I have been to that place, that place where you are desperate to find a way to make a living and I understand. This is the card I give them:
My name isn't actually on the invite. I was added to the show the day after they finished the poster. Still, I am worthy. Maybe.
If you come to the opening reception, you will know me, because I will be wearing a name tag with my name, "Shoshanah" on it. I realize that my real name does not, in fact, seem so much like a real name, but I assure you, it is my real name. It is not Indian and I did not make it up. My mother gave it to me. And she gave me life. And nothing else, as far as I can remember, but life and a name is probably enough. It's the bare minimum, anyway.
The art at this show will be goofy and strange, and you will like it. It is in Wisconsin. Wisconsin is not a mythical place, but rather a real state in the contiguous United States of Americanerna. Wisconsin is the best kept secret of the whole world. If you come, you will like it, here.
Or, you know, maybe not. But come to my art show, because, honestly, I have no idea who is reading this blog, but I'm sure you must be good people.