Like they always say..There's a fine line between cleaning your clock and getting your clock cleaned. Well, maybe that has never been said but it darn well should, as it seems to apply to the notion of the vulnerability that we, as artists, as people, seem to feel in so many shapes and forms. We've all had the dream: standing naked before a crowd of peers as you give your speech on the pros and cons of nuclear energy, only to find that not only have you forgotten your highlighted note cards, you are also standing there in your birthday suit for all to see, and frankly, it's really cold, and it can be a cold, cold world when you are out there all alone. I try not to think about this notion with every stroke of my brush and every line from my pencil, as it is my job to create and show my works with my chest out and my words dripping with the confidence of Arthur Fonzarelli, but inside we know the doubts that we harbor about our own legitimacy: Do I have the right? Ultimately we have no choice but to hold our noses and take the plunge - and even in doing so we will never truly receive a definitive answer, we might get a "I like the green" here or there, or quite possibly some more thorough evaluation from more "educated" minds that reflect more positively or negatively than expected. I can't help but think that without that fear or rejection, without that deep vulnerability that we feel when we put our hearts and souls out for all to see— - that there would be a lot more uninspiring work out there feeding the masses. In all seriousness though, it is a sobering proposition to allow ourselves to be judged by the very same undefinable qualities that allow us to be seen. In the immortal words of so many before me..."F*** it!"