Artmart makes you question why your hobby is making meth in your kitchen and not, say, stamping or drawing with Conté crayons. You want to pick a fight with your significant other just so you have occasion to make an "I'm sorry" card. You suddenly feel bad about mocking your friends who take scrapbooking classes and seriously consider buying some sealing wax to press your initial onto past-due phone bills. You imagine throwing a dinner party. At some point in the evening, one of your guests stops to admire a painting on your wall. "Where did you ever find that?" they might say. "Oh, that," you'd respond, waving a hand as if shooing away a fly. "It's just something I made in my spare time." "Wait a minute, did you also make our invitations?" "And that bust of Mayor Slay?" At this point, you'd blush, smile humbly and stare at the floor. Because no one likes a braggart.