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Thursday, December 20, 2012

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"For what is an artist in this world but a servant, a lackey for the rich and powerful? Before we even begin to work, to feed this craving of ours, we must find a patron, a rich man of affairs, or a merchant, or a prince or... a Pope. We must bow, fawn, kiss hands to be able to do the things we must do or die. We are harlots always peddling beauty at the doorsteps of the mighty."

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