I would have addressed this letter to the “Editor” of SEE, but after thumbing through the magazine on several occasions over the years, I have seen little evidence to date that SEE actually employs anyone deserving that title.

I picked up the May 12-18 edition the other week, and paused over J Procktor’s profile of artist Saera Little, on page 3. To my disgust, I took in Procktor’s ill-considered question for this Edmonton painter.

“I’ve heard all artists are lazy, is this true? Are you lazy? Do people ever say to you ‘No, no, what’s your real job’? So, when are you going to grow up and join the real worls, get a job, pay taxes and make babies?”

Are you fucking kidding me? This must have been meant as a joke, but if this is an example of Procktor’s ironic, tongue-in-cheek style of wit, it falls far short of amusing. The bartender profiled in the May 19-25 issue doesn’t get slapped in the face with such demeaning questions; in fact, Procktor equates her profession with that of a psychiatrist. Perhaps Procktor could sggest to Little that she quit the art biz, and start serving $2.50 highballs in order to get more respect. Or, maybe s artists should put down our paintbrushes and hammers (well, maybe we’ll keep the hammers) and politely discuss the concept of laziness (especially the intellectual kind) and “real jobs” with Procktor, the dilettantish writer of fluff profiles for a glorified Weekly Advertiser/Clubhouse newsletter. Or, better yet, how about just switch to printing SEE on a softer, more absorbent paper, so I can more comfortably make additions to your publication in the privacy of my own bathroom? I assure you that the brown columns I would submit would be up to your demanding editorial standards.

Sincerely,

R. McCourt