As an artist I’ll probably be remembered as a minor figure. If I’m even remembered at all.
And you think of the pantheon of the “great” artists who are remembered. Picasso. Van Gough. Rembrandt. Michelangelo. Andy Warhol. Dali. R. Crumb. Whoever.
I suppose it’s like some baseball star who is remembered as the greatest hitter — the MVP — in 1973. And it’s wonderful. But ultimately, so what?
I guess I thought it would add up to more than this. My bad