“I wanted to start a novelty band, but I wasn’t creative enough to start a novelty band, so instead I started a four-piece guitar band. Fuck you Eddie Vedder, listening to Pearl Jam made it impossible for me to start a novelty band.
My four-piece guitar band wasn’t working out too well. We couldn’t get past playing slowed down covers of Mumford and Sons songs. As a result our output was rather boring. I started thinking about what to do next but was side tracked when I began to worry about how vegans intimidated me. They make me feel ethically inconsistent. Hi my name is Holly and I’m ethically inconsistent. Hi Holly. Things often affect my thought process like that. One day when I was trying to write an essay on Political Realism, I told you Eddie Vedder had stolen my creativity, I started thinking about whether my desire to meet an alien had something to do with my being an atheist. Like my atheism had made the world too boring, too rational, too scientific and my belief in aliens was a reaction to that. I couldn’t get my mind away from this topic for hours, naturally the essay on Political Realism didn’t eventuate and I still haven’t met an alien.
I eventually left the four-piece guitar band to become a painter. They didn’t seem to mind too much and told me they planned to continue as a folk pop trio. Painting has a romanticism to it that didn’t exist in my four-piece guitar band.
I was quite a good painter; I used cardboard and off-white paint almost exclusively. I would begin the day with a coffee, black of course. I would then watch an episode of Seinfeld. Following this I would paint. Every now and then I would watch two episodes of Seinfeld and be sidetracked by wondering where I could find clothes like the ones Elaine wears in the early seasons, you know the big long dresses and huge jackets. Anyway, once I had finished a painting, I liked to paint fast so I would often finish 3 a day, I would leave them on the street for someone to find. I hoped this would create a little buzz. I figured soon enough everyone would be talking about the mysterious artist who keeps leaving his or her paintings on the street. I did this for two months; I thought that was enough time to create some significant word of mouth. I then approached a gallery. I walked in, acting very nonchalant and said, Hi my name is Holly and I’m that elusive, mysterious painter who keeps leaving their work on the street. The gallerist just looked at me with a blank expression and turned to greet another visitor. My plan had failed; maybe I should have waited three months. To add to my woes my four-piece guitar band turned folk pop trio had just signed a record deal.
At this point I had become very disillusioned with painting, with the whole notion of being an artist. I blamed Eddie Vedder. He did this to me. I needed to find him, to tell him what he had done. I went to Google and tried to figure out where he lived. The search engine had nothing for me; apparently it didn’t know where he lived. So I turned off my computer and watched another episode of Seinfeld. I had reached the later seasons by this stage, the ones where Elaine dresses in tighter, more basic clothes. I suppose this was somewhat of a consolation as now I wouldn’t have to think about where I could find clothes like the ones she wore, you know the big long dresses and the huge jackets.”
By Holly Keys