GUTTER PONDER

A current-state deep dive into awful thoughts.

Lately, I’m afraid of sharing my new projects and finished work on the internet. I can’t make it through a single day without someone or something bringing up AI. Even this weekend I had a conversation with a friend in the art community about how AI is being trained on whatever it can find on the internet - and that includes videos you post about your process (time lapse, lessons learned, etc.). I hadn’t thought about process videos. Holy fuck. That shook me.

And I’ve been making a lot of new stuff lately. Purses, wallets, aprons, and some paintings. For 2026, my goal has been to teach myself new skills all year long. Macrame and sewing have been at the top of my list. It’s been a lot of fun and very rewarding so far. I’m feeling more capable and have so much more respect for those who craft with yarn and fabric. Whoa, sewing and macrame are pure wizardry!

But back to the whole AI thing - I just want to do art. I don’t want to think about how a computer might steal my ideas and mass produce it for cheap and make money off of my work. I want to get excited about the art. I want to share my art and my crafts and be seen. I find myself chasing that feeling I used to get as a kid when my art teacher would say, ‘Wow, you really did an awesome job on this one. Class, look at what Rachael made. Isn’t her work so thoughtful and creative?’

::snaps out of daydream; realizes she is in her 40s and living in the doom of 2026; feels depressed again::

Who am I kidding. No one wants my shit. Those awesome, probably inflated art teacher recognition days are over. Why am I even distracting myself thinking that AI is coming to get me and steal my crappy art that literally no one wants in the first place? Who do I think I am? My shit is not good. Have you seen it? No. Exactly.

Part of me has always wanted to be famous. When I was a kid, I wanted to be a comedian. I wanted to be a meteorologist on TV. I wanted to be a folk singer/song writer. I wanted to be a bass player in a rock band. And now, this many years later, I want to be some recognized artist. Which is silly and I know, just like the other dreams I had, it will never happen. I am not a special or unique snowflake. I get it. Time to put that idea away for good and just move the hell on.

I’m in this really awful circle right now.

AI really isn’t the issue for me. It’s this want to be seen that often leaves me feeling invisible. And I know, comparison is the thief of joy. Why am I doing this to myself? Art is meant to be seen, right? All my attempts at sharing on social media make me feel stupid and worthless. It’s toxic. I want out.

But by removing myself, I always end up feeling even more isolated. Forgotten about.

So I start thinking, what the fuck even is my problem?

Am I making art for me or for someone else? Am I making it so I have inventory to play store? Am I making it so I can make a connection with others? Am I making it to make a statement or to help someone? Am I making it for income? Am I making it for popularity or recognition? Which one is correct?

My feelings have been shit scattered all over the gutter lately.

Pondering life itself.

What am I even doing?

I am running out of room for all the arts and crafts I’ve been making. Outdoor markets are hot and so much to set up. And it’s hit or miss if you will sell anything. Feels very Apple II-E Lemonade Stand. Is my price too high? No, it’s literally not good. Your lemonade is bad, little girl. Quit wasting your time.

And I just wasted your time. I don’t know where I am going with all of this.

See? This is the back and forth, the self hatred, the insanity I have in my head at ANY given time. You can call me on the phone right now and ask, ‘Hey girl hey, where you be with your feelings and plans for your art?’ and I will give you an honest answer. And I swear to you, that answer will change the minute I hang up the phone.

I just want to connect. I just want to create. I just want to share. I just want to feel something outside of my silo. So enjoy this purse, apron, wallet, and painting I made.

Please don’t forget about me.