Dear Readers,
The breaking news about the rich not getting richer during these hard times got a mixed reaction from me as I read the front page of a recent NY Times. I was surprised by my confused feelings. Normally, I would have been like, Oh, poor babies, they lost $100 million and now they only have $3 million. You mean they have to sell their vacation homes in Santa Fe? It's hard to drum up sympathy for the wealthy. But this time, I was more like, Hey, wait a minute! I need those rich people to be buying art and donating to museums. I care about those people now.

I'm having difficulty with this new attitude — my deep concern for the affluent. You see, way back when I became an adult, I also knew that I was an artist. But for the longest time it was hard for me to admit. I would stutter or even lie when asked what I did. Being an artist seemed elitist and pretentious. It stood for everything I was against. Pure unadulterated self-indulgence didn't seem much of a contribution to society, to be perfectly honest.

I love art, though. I love making art. I love seeing art. I love being around it. Art saved my life. If it weren't for red, yellow and blue tempera paint, I would have probably ended up a teenage runaway prostitute, or even worse, a sorority sister.

Now I grapple with the problem of the art world becoming mainstream. One would think I'd be thrilled with its new mass appeal. But I'm more concerned that art has become commonplace. It's not just the beau monde, whom I adoringly looked down on in my naive youth. Now the playing field is more even. There are urban artists, fashionistas, poseurs, rebels, art-damaged students and the untouchable art stars. Just look at art's penetration into the commercial media world: reality TV, sponsorships, movies, art magazines, art videos, books. Everyone is jumping on the Artwagon.

Is this going to just blow up in our faces? Can all this culture-mixing be a good thing? Is the day we hear "White Riot" in the supermarket nearer than we think? The art world doesn't like to admit when things are going wrong. In the middle of a recession many new galleries have opened, while some have expanded or moved. The art fairs are still with us — hell, there was a Malibu art fair the last week of summer! You gotta hand it to the art world. It can seem invincible. I think it's because art matters deeply to all the players. It's a passion that we all share in common, rich or poor (good taste or bad). It's all essential to our society. Maybe that's why my attitude toward the upper crust has softened. I've never had a problem with their art collections. I do try to get ahold of a few pieces myself. And I've never held a grudge against someone buying art.

Three years ago, I retired my brushes in exchange for the keyboard. That's when I started Artillery and jumped on the Artwagon. We like to think we were there in front of all the poseurs and opportunists, but we're happy to have them along for the ride — for poorer, for richer.

—Tulsa Kinney