So for these past few days, due to an uneventful smell in the air, I've set out on a mission. I've begun to read Violent Acres blogs, starting from number one. I've laughed, I've cried, I've felt understood, I've been flatteringly offended (only to later realize with this I'm simultaneously learning a lot more from her rants than any of the thousands of monotonous, bland, and repetitive self improvement blogs I've seen... seriously guys... the writers of these blogs seem more like they're trying to convince themselves their lives don't suck, by trying to give other people advice on how to make theirs NOT. You aren't fooling me.) I'm at June 2007 of her blog. Call me a loser with too much time on my hands (and I'll support your statement 110%) but I feel like I'm reading a book.


Anyway, there's some shit to be said about all these self proclaimed "photographers" running around. Oh sorry, I forgot. Taking black and white pictures of converse sneakers makes you an artist. My fault. Let's not forget that creative little shot of the tree, or the sky, or that rock that was shaped like a heart. Yeah, you're real deep. Any fuckwit with half a brain and functioning hands can pick up a fancy camera from their daddy's den, adjust the settings after a few trial pictures and BAM we've got an artist on the rise. It's an alarming and truth be told disgusting trend. Granted, some people have a gift when it comes to snapping shots. Some people see things others don't, therefore they try to convey their visions to the rest of the world.

But keyword: SOME. Okay more like VERY FEW. And the more time goes on, the more these numbers seem to deplete. People rarely seek out the beauty in things anymore. But hell, why do this when they can take black and white pictures of shoes and flowers all day? Thats art right?