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I'm Interested in the Pearl

Just once I’d like see a national outrage not followed up by a national descent into delusions about how America, the just, the noble, the pure, is being sullied.

Just once.

Good luck with that one, right?


Spent yesterday—a warm but basically miserable day when the ground fog rose to embrace the drizzle—writing a moderately well-paying piece about invoice factoring.

Invoice factoring is a financial transaction in which a small business sells its invoices to a third party in exchange for capital that will help that small business meet its cash flow demands. Those third parties charge exorbitant annual percentage rates, well in excess of the exorbitant APRs charged by credit card predators, so one imagines this strategy is the last resort for small businesses that are circling the drain.

The Little Store would never have qualified for this intervention since in order to have invoices, you have to be a B2B.

Nevertheless, researching and writing made me start thinking about the Little Store in a way I simply have not allowed myself to think about it for a decade or so.

So, I spent much of yesterday in mourning.

This is my way of dealing with traumatic events.

I put them in a box; I hammer that box shut. I drop the box in some deep, deep pool in the back of my mind.

I soldier on.

Guess what?

It’s a very effective survival mechanism because here I am!

And if you look at so, so many of the actual events of my life, really I shouldn’t be.


In the times of Social Media Uber Alles, the Little Store would have done very, very well because it was a viral phenomenon waiting to burst onto the scene.

Oh, well.


Mourning, as you might expect, engendered disaffection.

I found myself thinking about death and wondering what the big deal is about life.

I suppose life is a bit like being a kid in a candy store. Eventually, after you’ve made yourself sick, you figure out that everything tastes like one thing: sugar!

I don’t think I’ve really made enough progress in this lifetime to figure out where the exit from the Midway is. So inevitably, in the next lifetime, it will be back to the carnival for me.


Art is always the transformative thing.

Which is why it upsets me so much when art becomes politicized.

I don’t care if the art is created by a monster.

I’m not interested in the oyster. I’m interested in the pearl.

This entry was originally posted at http://mallorys-camera.dreamwidth.org. You may leave comments on either Dreamwidth or LiveJournal if you like.


( 5 comments — Leave a comment )
Oct. 5th, 2018 02:35 pm (UTC)
I HAAAAAATE politicized art. It’s of the main reasons I don’t go about seeking out art in general. I accept the natural manifestations of politics in art, the times, but anything with a “message” makes me feel dumb in a dumb world.
Oct. 5th, 2018 02:40 pm (UTC)
Things with a "message" make me want to smash them. :-)
Oct. 5th, 2018 02:50 pm (UTC)
I often find that I need to separate the art from the artist. So many artists are dicks.
Oct. 5th, 2018 02:56 pm (UTC)
Well, you kind of need to be in order to be "successful" in your own lifetime. There's so much stacked against you! You have to be monstrously self-involved! Or delusional.
Oct. 5th, 2018 07:23 pm (UTC)
What a fab picture of you! :)
( 5 comments — Leave a comment )