Sometimes people ask me where they can follow my artwork. I’m always flattered by their interest, but the flattery has started darkening with distaste— not for anything specific to them, but for the reality that shapes that question. No one ever wants to linger and talk to me about my art after the initial “Wowww can I see?”— they’re just interested in a convenient way to consume it later so they can move on with their hasteful life.
They admire what I’m doing, and I’m glad for it. But no one to my knowledge has yet caught on that the art I’m drawing is not the art I’m primarily engaged with in those moments: I’m in the middle of a performance, a dialogue, and the thing I am drawing is very nearly a smokescreen. It’s like drinking: if all I wanted was to drink, I don’t need to trouble myself to go out in public to do it. When I go to a bar, the drink is the excuse to be at the bar. And so it is that when I draw in public, it is the in public part that I am most interested in. I want to engage with you. Yes— you, in particular. I want you to notice me. Out of the corner of your eye at first, when you’ve looked up from your phone for a moment and are mindlessly casting your eyes around the room to look at your thoughts— that’s when I want to steal your attention.
My standard practice has been to give interested folks my Instagram handle; but when I realized how quickly people would leave after obtaining it, I started changing the way I respond to such inquiries, experimenting with more provocative responses like:
“Ah! Sorry but I don’t really use the internet.”
Or:
“Oh — I’m here most Sunday nights! Come back same time next week.”
Whatever pops into my head that seems to fit the vibe whilst refusing to give them what they’re looking for immediately. I might still end up ‘giving them my business card’, as it were, but I make them give me what I want first: a conversation.