He sat there everyday, against the wall that showcased his life’s work, his passion, his art.
He would smile back politely at the passers by who would shower him with praises and flowery words.
He smiled at how their actions failed to respect their words, as the number of paintings on the wall greatly outnumbered the money notes in his wallet…
Prompt:
The Dark Netizen 
Ha, yes, the endless stream of people at an exhibition who announce to you how ‘Inspired’ they are by your work…
‘I can’t eat inspiration’ you think…
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Exactly!! 🙂
Thanks so much!!
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Nice one! It’s one of my goals this year to buy at least one piece of original art. Supporting writers and artists is so important!
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Such is an artists life. Very well crafted.
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This reminds me of Sunday afternoons walking along by St. James’ Park in London. There are long rows of artists with work spread out on the pavements. I’ve bought a couple too!
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Poignant indeed and sad to say empty words seem to be growing. Especially within political circles… I digress toward a sad rant!
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I agree, Gary! 🙂
Thank You! 😀
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