My roommate (the one who hates septum piercings so much they make her gag) thinks my art is the most disgusting and ugly shit on the planet, and every time I announce that I’ve sold a piece or gotten into a show, she makes the kind of facial expression you’d expect of someone eating chili at a live autopsy and says, “I’m glad you’re having fun! :)”
You’re all misunderstanding; I love her so much and I’m having a great time. It’s like when you’re a kid and you chase other, less cool kids around the playground with a fun worm you found.
She doesn’t consume any media besides sitcoms and reality TV, and doesn’t have social media besides Facebook, so when I come to her with something even remotely bizarre, she just has absolutely nothing to compare it to. Like, when I show her something mildly weird that made like this:
She’s just fully convinced that I personally invented the concept of body horror all on my own specifically to make her life a living hell. She thinks I’m the only person like this alive. It’s so funny. I love her.
