Don’t bring your flippancy to my craft, no, I wouldn’t take that. My sweat, my blood, my tears went into that. I put my soul and my love into it. You don’t have to love it, not even like it. It might not be your taste, not your cup of tea, maybe you like your coffee milky and weak, that is fine, it is allowed, but this coffee is strong, it is black and bodied. I demand, I insist that you acknowledge the effort, the strength, the brew, otherwise you must leave.
Give me energy, give me life, hit me with your comment, good or bad, critique me if you must, but let it have strength, depth and fairness, yes fairness. Make it constructive, I can take it. But don’t give me some limp lifeless feedback. Get your slack hands off my work! You are not allowed! You can’t touch it, you must not handle it. Move on, please.
I will not entertain mediocrity, I will not succumb to it, your tardiness is unprofessional, your wet handshake I must withdraw from. This is not playground superficial small talk, this is my life.
Beautiful Ivory 