Тонкое искусство пофигизма

           Whocares?

           Withthisvalue,tonotpursuemyownprojectsbecamethefailure—notalackofmoney,notsleepingonfriends’andfamily’scouches(whichIcontinuedtodoformostofthenexttwoyears),andnotanemptyrésumé.

           TheFailure/SuccessParadox

           WhenPabloPicassowasanoldman,hewassittinginacaféinSpain,doodlingonausednapkin.Hewasnonchalantaboutthewholething,drawingwhateveramusedhiminthatmoment—kindofthesamewayteenageboysdrawpenisesonbathroomstalls—exceptthiswasPicasso,sohisbathroom-stallpenisesweremorelikecubist/impressionistawesomenesslacedontopoffaintcoffeestains.

           Anyway,somewomansittingnearhimwaslookingoninawe.Afterafewmoments,Picassofinishedhiscoffeeandcrumpledupthenapkintothrowawayasheleft.

           Thewomanstoppedhim.“Wait,”shesaid.“CanIhavethatnapkinyouwerejustdrawingon?I’llpayyouforit.”

           “Sure,”Picassoreplied.“Twentythousanddollars.”

           Thewoman’sheadjoltedbackasifhehadjustflungabrickather.“What?Ittookyouliketwominutestodrawthat.”

           “No,ma’am,”Picassosaid.“Ittookmeoversixtyyearstodrawthis.”Hestuffedthenapkininhispocketandwalkedoutofthecafé.

           Improvementatanythingisbasedonthousandsoftinyfailures,andthemagnitudeofyoursuccessisbasedonhowmanytimesyou’vefailedatsomething.