Driving to church and thinking about badness.

I was trying to sell laser engraved Icons for a while, but I got bored as I often do, bored and I convinced myself it wasn’t sacred enough for a sacred thing, so I let it snooze. But when I was on the up I met a person on the internet with a big following who was willing to help me. He was kind enough, and he bought an icon. Of course he never paid me for it and now I see on his instagram that he’s selling laser engraved icons for nearly twice what I was charging back then, and they’re a lot worse.

There’s something disgusting about selling religious products. I like to think that painted icons will be nicer, because there’s something nice about doing them, and there’s something nice about being able to support yourself by doing them. But selling drop-shipped t-shirts, stickers, and all manner of crappy nonsense? I think that’s shameful in and of itself. To say nothing of the fact that he clearly stole from me, money and an idea.

It’s not that much money and it’s not that original of an idea, but he knows in his heart what he’s done, or maybe he doesn’t. It makes me feel bad though, envious of his making money, which he might not be, I had a hard enough time selling them and mine were better.

It’s a whole thing rich with pride and envy and greed and wrath and none of it feels very good.

I wouldn’t want to take his success from him if I could, and what the hell would I do with it anyways.

I’ve got Roby.

She’s wearing matching pink pants and shirt along with a dress the same color as the house she was born in. She’s started singing songs pretty good and I’m going to a painting class in a few weeks where we’ll use eggs for our paint.

Before that I’ll go to pre sanctified liturgy, that’s where I’m headed, and I’ll go to confession. Hopefully that’ll be for the easing of my agitation. I think it probably will.