Definitely re-pierced my septum. Ouch.
Artist” has gradually become a form of identity which (as every artist knows) often carries with it as many drawbacks as benefits. Consider that if artist equals self, then when (inevitably) you make flawed art, you are a flawed person, and when (worse yet) you make no art, you are no person at all!
L’amour Est Bleu — Vicky (1967)
One of the first songs I ever memorized as a child.