You get something, I get something.  I’ll buy your therapy.

Dish out your self-portrait. Be creative + crafty or dangerous + sharp.  Be you.  Exaggerate. Pour out some paint, throw in some mud, use your fingers, and make a mess!

Why should you waste time with chunks of crayon, erasers, and glue sticks?

Therapy.  It feels really good.  And who isn’t a tad narcissistic these days?  Check out my mermaid waves. Also, I’ll include a link to your website if you want some attention.

Other than a free therapy session (unleash your inner tarantula or unicorn), I buy you a drink. Since I can’t and won’t take you out for a drink, I’ll send you a drink via snail mail.  (Spend it on cotton swabs or jelly beans if you don’t drink alcohol.)

I get the doodle, and you get the drink.  Win-win-WIN.  There are stipulations, of course.  And I don’t just give drinks away.  Effort is necessary.

Here’s what you get when you give:

Share a self-portrait with your story, and you’ll be savoring a delicious PBR in no time. $3

→Bacon beer in your belly.  Submit a diorama with the story, and you will taste the meat in no time.  Cheers.  $5

→If you are eco-friendly and apply organic materials to the caricature (with story), then salt up the arm, a tequila shot is on the way.  Tequila! $7

→Ambitious and dangerous?  Two drawings with two stories = One delicious dirty martini.  Encourage a friend to play! $9

→Delight your friends.  Collect 5 self-portraits + stories.  Send.  Celebrate with a round of shots.  $21

It’s easy to submit.  Fill out the form.

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Acrylic anger

December 3, 2009

“I have been drawing and painting since as far back as I can remember.  In almost every childhood picture of me I have a pacifier in my mouth and a crayon in my hand.  Art class was my refuge in high school.

I drew or painted almost every day until my first year of college.  I don’t know how it happened, but I got it into my head that I was a big fraud.  I had a sinking feeling that I somehow wasn’t a real artist, and it was only a matter of time before everyone else figured it out.  I didn’t make art for years.

Then one day not too long ago, something happened that made me angry.  And not just regular angry – burning with the fire of a thousand suns angry.  I stormed into my apartment and had the thought that I was either going to light the place on fire or find a way to channel my energy elsewhere.  After briefly considering what prison would be like, I chose the latter.  Without thinking I grabbed my paint brushes and this picture just fell out of me onto the canvas. Talk about therapy!

Making this painting reignited my inspiration.  Lately I can’t seem to stop, and my tiny little apartment is losing walking space every week as I get canvas after canvas.  These days I am much less angry.”

-Story and art by Rachel Rolseth in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

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