The painting, “Stupid Kids With Stupid Dreams” is about two friends throwing caution to the wind and making the most of life by focusing on what really matters to them. The story of the painting – as a physical object – takes a darker turn, rife with petty, interpersonal drama. If you’re not interested in that and just want the good stuff, I’ve rigged this page to let you skip past the behind-the-scenes hurt feelings and just get to the painting and its positive message.

Origin

One of my (oldest and very best) friend’s girlfriend hit me up to commission a painting. The two of them were moving in together and she wanted to give it to him as a surprise housewarming gift. She paid for it, I set to work, and – before I finished – he dumped her because he’s afraid of commitment. I asked her what I should do with the painting once finished. She said to just go ahead and give it to him anyway.

Before that would happen, he tried to get her to take him back (even though this was the second time he’d dumped her for no good reason). This time she said no. He was devastated even though – again – HE WAS THE ONE WHO DUMPED HER.

His ex had chosen this gift because of how much he loved my art. Seeing as it no longer needed to be a surprise, I figured I could cheer him up a little by telling him about it.

And he said that he was too heartbroken to want to hang it on his wall because it would remind him of her and upset him.

That hurt my feelings pretty badly. He’d bought some of my prints before and some of my less expensive drawings, but now he was finally going to have his own original Sammy thrashLife PAINTING (for free!) and he… didn’t want it?

Abandonment

“Dude – how about instead of thinking of her when you look at it, you think of ME, YOUR BEST FRIEND. WHO PAINTED THIS ESPECIALLY FOR YOU.”

“No” he told me. “It’s too painful; it’ll just remind me of her.”

I tried to talk sense to him. Reminded him that, in a few months, he wouldn’t give a shit about this girl anymore – that there’d be another girl for him to take for granted – BUT THAT THIS PAINTING WOULD BE HIS FOREVER. Not only as something to enjoy on the wall (simply because he likes my artwork) but as a reminder of our decades-long friendship.

Nope. Unconvinced. He didn’t want it. And, again, I can’t stress how much this hurt my feelings. But I stopped arguing and just accepted it. And then was in no rush to finish it because… well, why would I be now? And then I relapsed and stopped painting for a long time anyway.

Time passes

A year or so later, I got clean for a minute and finally finished. He was still living on the other side of the country (as he had been for many years) but was in town visiting so I brought it up with him again and – yes – now he did want it. But he was moving back here soon so – rather than take it back across the country with him, only to have to move it down with the rest of his stuff in a month, he’d just get it from me once he returned.

In the years since he’d moved away, every time he came to visit, we’d met up as soon as his plane landed and only split back up when he was on his way back to the airport.

But when he moved back, I barely heard from him. We kept sort of making plans but it just kept not happening. Considering how much time we’d spent together and how well we’d gotten along every time he’d visited (most recently, just a month prior) it was pretty strange.

A few years have passed now and I could probably count on one hand the number of times we’ve hung out since then. Even though we live five minutes away from each other.

Two sides to every story (this is my side)

I don’t wanna talk shit but the simple truth is we’re not really friends anymore and he’s not really the same person any more. His priorities have changed, his taste in music has changed, his politics have changed, his whole worldview and ideology have changed. We don’t really have anything in common anymore. Just one example: those “stupid dreams” of ours that this painting is about? He gave up on his. Which – as I acknowledge in the text on the canvas – is fine in/of itself. It’s the reasons he gave up on it – which are also pretty emblematic of why we don’t get along anymore.

Initially, I thought maybe he’d come around some day. After all, we went through something similar twenty years ago when he had an identity crisis at the end of our teenage years and decided that he no longer liked everything he’d loved and identified with (and shared in common with me). But a couple years later, his crisis ended and he was himself again. I thought maybe this was just  “round 2” of that – a mid-life crisis of sorts. But it’s been four years and it’s starting to seem like less of an identity crisis than maybe just that he never really had an identity to begin with.

Rant

Call me crazy but I feel like there are core elements of who each of us is as a person that shouldn’t really change. Or maybe I’m just a “stupid kid” who never grew up. I’m pretty sure that’s how he would describe me at this point. But you know what? I’d rather be a stupid kid with a stupid dream, scrappin’ my way through life, doing what I love than [allow me to role play for a moment] an “adult” working a shit job and making monthly payments on my status symbol car – that I only have so I can condescend to people about “work ethic,” “growing up,” and how anyone living in poverty “just isn’t trying hard enough” (while seemingly overlooking the fact that even I’m selling coke on the side just to afford my performative lifestyle – totally oblivious to what would happen if I got arrested and how much that would complicate everything – and how that’s exactly what’s happened to thousands before me – people with far fewer options than my privileged ass had (and how maybe poverty isn’t just a question of effort)).

I’m getting a little bogged down in the minutiae of what I don’t love about this guy’s transformation… What I’m saying is he’s not someone I relate to anymore. I don’t understand him anymore. I miss my friend. The one who teared up when he finally did see this painting for the first time because it expressed a sentiment he still understood then.

The actual text in the painting

Trying to make it in/as a pop punk band in 2019, as an artist at any time, or even just trying to forge a REAL, EMOTIONAL CONNECTION WITH ANOTHER HUMAN BEING (okay, I’m only half-joking about that last one) – it wouldn’t be unfair to say that you’d have to be pretty dumb to (1) believe that any of these were even potentially worthwhile endeavors or (2) to shape your life toward the achievement of such a goal. After all…

Q: What’re the odds that any of these things could possibly pan out at all, let alone in any lasting, long-term sense?

A: NOT GOOD.

But here we are, at it all the same. IT’S PROBABLY NOT GOING TO WORK OUT. There may well come a day when we’re forced to accept that it’s just not gonna happen for us. A day when we have to give up, scrap the dream, and just move on. And you know what? That’s okay. ‘Cause – in the meantime – here we are: taking aim, firing shots, and doing the shit we love. We deal with rejection, frustration, doubt, and more. But we also have fun. We get the highs and the lows. We’ve had more wild experiences and adventures than most people will ever even read about. And our shit’s real and it’s ours. We did it. Whatever happens, we’ve ALREADY WON. You can put that shit on my tombstone ‘cause, even if I die tonight, I’ll know I made it count.

Reflecting

I don’t feel great about the blog entry for this (one of my more positive paintings) being so focused on something negative – especially considering that quite a bit of my recent work has at least partly been in a similar vein. But life can’t always be rainbows and puppy dogs. Still,I know that I need to watch myself because it’s not a great sign for my mental health that I’ve been uncharacteristically preoccupied with interpersonal strife. Anger, spite, resentment – these things aren’t good for me. And (if I can be psychologically vain for a moment) they don’t look good on me either. This turmoil and drama isn’t reflective of the person I see myself as or want to be seen as.

Which isn’t to say that anything I’ve written isn’t true. But the fact that I’m focusing my energy on those things instead of something more positive – that’s the problem. Everyone has bad experiences; everyone has friendships that fall apart. Writing about those things isn’t bad in itself; I just know that if I were happier, I would be less inclined to write about them and – even when I did – I’d filter them through a more constructive lens and finish with a more uplifting conclusion. But even that awareness is a good sign. I’m grateful that I’m still well enough to at least recognize what’s going on. And these kinds of acknowledgments are good first steps in a better direction.

Anyway – about the painting (WHICH IS ITSELF VERY POSITIVE AND UPLIFTING AND FULL OF LIGHT), unclaimed as it is – I’ve got it on my wall until I find a buyer that’ll appreciate it. LET ME KNOW IF THAT’S YOU! I’ve also got 12×12-inch prints of it (as always, hand-numbered and signed by yours truly). Pick one up if you wanna support a stupid kid with a stupid dream.