"Get real!"
 "What have you got to smile about?"
"Just take a look at  this @#%& hole world."
"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH...is there anybody out there?"

These are not the words of the happy artist.  

Artists aren't supposed to be happy, right?  We are realists and escapists (for those who can't handle the "Truth").   

We, the realists, are poor and destitute, living aching dark pitiful lives.  We share our dire vision with the world in some insane attempt to align ourselves with reality.  Ah, the gory glory.  It hurts so good trying to be understood. 

We, the escapists, are shivering and trembling beneath the protection of our pretty images and pleasant piles of money.  Do not look at that man behind the easle.

(Of course, most artists reside somewhere in the center, but how relevant is that to what I am talking about?)

But, hold on, what if an artist stands up and says, "Holy rap music, I am just freakily happy, and all I got to do is want it!"?
It does happen.

Chick-chuck (shotgun loading sound).......BLAAAMMMMMM!!!!!!
Splattered happy artist brains on a white wall.  Now that's art!

Coming soon...the secrets of the eternal Happy Artist revealed.  Hail to Thee O Source of Good Cheer.





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