Row upon row of inane images. Grotesque colors and shapes begging me to choose them. "Use me," they shout from their neat formations. That they don't play hard to get makes me hate them. Scooped up by wanna-be creatives and inserted into yet more clip-art templates.
I loath lack of creativity as much as I loath lack of talent. These thoughts feed my own sense of self loathing. One can't be master of everything. But to see clip-art on a website is a knife through my heart. For a venue as far reaching as the Internet, I want local color. I want what is in your heart and soul. What expresses you.
Clip-art stifles. Clip-art constricts the lines of that box around our brain from ever parting. Clip-art fills me with dread. Anyone that uses clip-art isn't someone I want to know. Isn't someone I find interesting. Because someone who takes from the masses to project their own sensibilities is just playing scrabble with the same known words, forming and reforming some tired old thing. Am I bitter? No, hungry. For something new.
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