While in graduate school, I recall that the art critics used to be fond of saying that performance art was self-indulgent, was masturbation. I suppose that is true since most everything was centered around the autobiographical, so there was always the option to please oneself, speak about oneself, obsess on oneself, despite the external commentary. And self examination is often where universal truths and collective communication originate; a rich source of authentic ideas. Or, at worst, a repository of the deeply mundane...

One day, not so long ago, I was completely and utterly bored and found that I was experiencing a serious case of writer’s block. So, as any artist might, I turned to the other side of my brain for some entertainment. I pointed my laptop toward Photoshop and indulged in some nearly mindless experimentation.


It was only after taking up the serious habit of drinking green tea that I began to notice the gradual and quiet change in the color of my teeth. Subtle at first, eventually it began to be more noticeable and bothersome. This coming week, I have an appointment to have my teeth bleached.

Pride, they say, is one of the seven deadly sins.

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