The Anatomy of a mermaid

yes, thanks.
i hate when people draws mermaid’s tail like it was some sort of goddamn suit on normal human legs like this:

it just doesnt work

yeah we wouldnt want to make our mermaids too unrealistic

So I made a thing. 

I feel like becoming an artist who is content with living on meager means in order to follow my passions has become associated with being a deviant and “what’s wrong with America”. The balance between creative artist and upstanding adult is a struggle constantly forced on me. Why can’t it be both? When did they become two different things? The problem with the argument is it’s not one you can really fight; it’s one that eats out your psyche like acid, like a virus. 

If I had to chose, I would be a deviant over an upstanding adult any day. Because I have a short few years to live and I’ll live them doing what I want to — even if I’ve been raised all my life to do otherwise.

I was taught to not hope to become a rockstar, because that doesn’t happen. Get a steady job or a husband, and suffer, because that’s what good people do. Starving artists are selfish and stupid. 

I wish I could follow that, I do. But somehow, beyond my best efforts, I’ve become that eccentric artist painting interpretive art in a studio apartment with a skylight in Paris. My shirt messy and crumbled, my hair disheveled, my furniture not matching, but I have the best paint and the best stool and the biggest smile on my face. I’m happy living “half a life” because that half is all I want. 

If I get to live half a real life and a whole fictional one, then my mind is stimulated and satisfied, so I am as well.

Yves Saint Laurent Movie Poster