Never forget, as ye work, as you are amazed and entranced by the pyrotechnics of your own knitting mind… before the soul and subconscious spill over to steal the show, not to confuse this seducing yourself: the prospect of artistry and image, with art.
or if you do, make sure you can see your one disembodied hand superimposed on the art piece, with a tiny mirror pointing at your far off face gazing adoringly at the marvel, a hand gesturing to crowds, at last, supper! Maybe the cognitive dissonance, the tiny jarring element will spruce up the fluff, a tiny mountain peak at the top beyond which on can see you jumping rock to rock to toss your own praise at hobgoblin tourists begging novelty, bellowing blurbs into your bindle, meticulously meddling your own archivism. Try rewriting that wearing a new coat, try imaging it in a different car, drink pepsi.
be the blip you wish to see in the world. fashion is so rational —