the imagineer

I am not much for fantasy, sometimes sci-fi can be a stretch, a futurist, yeah. For a digital artist it can be rough. The concept of fine art looms large with its smell of oil or the quick drying acrylic glaze. The image of one who holds the brush as it were a light saber. The image of the imager frozen in framonite to hang before the gazers with hand to chin. Mind gawkers, all of them, peering ever so close to see if brush hairs were inadvertently glued to the surface. The gallant gallery head bobbles with cha-ching. Then I bring my digital print. Doesn't matter if it is an eleven by eight point five inch print or forty by sixty foot print, they ask the same question with a slight distain, "where is the original?". I am ready this time, "I have it right here" and whip out a tiny micro dot on a business card. "You really can't see it until you put this in a computer or print it out as a did for your easier viewing." "And I got some fume of linseed oil in a Glade mister. I expect the same respect you give lithographers and photographers and block printers. And no you can't do this on your office printer......................ever!" Wait till they start putting human brains in automatons, "ooh where is the original?"

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