Once upon a time, I planned to become very wealthy with my artworks. Not the "Vince Van Gogh" wealth where I have to die first. That would make paying my bills while alive very difficult. No, I wanted to focus on the "Thomas Kinkade" road-to-riches. All he did was create a few whimsical scenes of dusk surrounding well-lit homes inhabited by people without concern over their electric bills. Mr. Kinkade has such an appealing niche - even electric companies would buy his creations for their greetings cards to send to their customers. "Merry Christmas! Look how comfy and inviting this home is with the heat on high and the lights all lit up. This could be you! Think about it this happy season. Love, your Power Company"
So, all I had to do was to fill a niche and easy money would be within my reach. Just a few specialized paintings for a few special people - those with more money than sense. I picked a marketing nook: the popular trend of sparkly vampires and the supernatural spirits.
My first composition showed nothing more than a dimly lit room with a few pieces of dusty furniture. I called it "A Family Gathering of Happy Ghosts".
Apparently, only ghosts enjoyed the canvas because not a living souls said a word. I then realized my rookie mistake - the public gets excited by titillating works posing as art.
So I made my second painting more risque: a dimly lit room with a large, drab covered bed and a few old, dingy chairs around it. I called this master piece "Still Life of Nude Ghosts".
Again, not a word from the community. Not even a mention in any hoity-toity art magazines.
But of course not. Obviously, I wasn't being hip or modern enough. No one cares about ghosts these days.
So my third, most ambitious mural showed a dull doorway opened to, you guessed it, a dimly lit room that held a large mirror on the wall. I labeled this wonderful work "Nude Woman Vampire Admiring Herself In A Mirror". To make it even more daring, I added a voyeuristic aspect by framing the canvas in the shape of a keyhole.
Again, not so much as a boo from anyone. Had I stupefied my potential patrons into excessive awe? No. I finally realized why my brilliant works would never reach the popularity they deserve: my paintings were too realistic.
And maybe the rooms were too dimly lit ... by Kinkade standards, anyway.
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