Internet famousness ain’t what it used to be — even if they held a conference about it at Harvard last spring, there will never be any turning back to the era that generated Raymi the Minx. Coming up on eight years since a 17-year-old Lauren White began chronicling her states of mind throughout each day on a Blogspot, she claimed ownership of the medium years before others owned the digital cameras required to successfully imitate her. And why would you even want to try?
“I will always be cocky,” she assures via instant message. “But then I immediately backpedal out of it because I am tired of the internet having something to say about it. There are so many more people to deal with now — like, I am not allowed to say, ‘Yeah, I am kind of really good looking today and what I just said was witty.
“When someone is witty people do not like that. If someone is arrogant and knows they’re being arrogant people don’t like that, either. Getting caught up in circular jealousy discussions is just a waste of time.”
Privacy hasn’t been part of Raymi’s pursuit, though. For one thing, it’s allowed her to stage a couple of art shows this year. The next opening is slated for Tuesday (October 7) at The Central (603 Markham St.).
Back in January, the first Raymi art show afforded an opportunity for readers to hang a piece of her on their walls — everything sold save for the most expensive piece, although she thinks many of the works at the closing night party ended up “drunkenly underpriced.”
The previous exhibition was highlighted by paintings of skinny celebutards whose body-image issues reflected Raymi’s own. The biggest difference, of course, is that Lauren White continues to be her own best paparazzo.
“People expect me to be this loud fucking asshole,” she writes, “and I am, only once I’m comfortable and loaded, but really I am nice and kind of shy and kind of charming. Some have been so relieved to find that this idea they had in their head about me was so totally wrong that they want me to be their boyfriend on the spot.”
Don’t people prefer to think of artists as somewhat more aloof?
“When I’m uncomfortable from nerves I get really high-pitched and chirpy,” states Raymi. “But posing as an art cliché is stupid, and I wouldn’t expect anyone to be impressed by that, or feel welcomed.”
Nonetheless, having turned 25 this year, the desire to turn Raymi the Minx into something beyond a reputation for self-portraiture in various states of undress seems fairly ravenous.
“I feel removed from the after-partier kids,” she writes. “When you get older, you lose the energy for that. Not to say I don’t still go out, but I never felt the need to be seen. I also always feel like an outsider, too.
“Thankfully, there will always be chicks bitterer and older than me everywhere I go.”
The latest Raymi paintings — gradually being added to a Flickr set — show her inspiration moving away from other human faces in favour of a guy in a frog suit, a self-portrait of getting intimate with Hello Kitty, and a tribute to the eroticism of aerobic videos rendered obsolete by the Wii Fit.
“These dumb ideas come to me in the shower when I’m bored,” explains Raymi. “I come up with funny anecdotes to blog about and I always forget those. I never forget my drawing ideas because they’re stupid and juvenile.”
There is no theme for this art show, she insists, and while the venue hosting the exhibit wants to call it Eclectic Neon, the title preferred by the artist is the same one gracing her next book: The Biggest Thing That Never Happened.
And many miles remain unpaved on Raymi the Minx’s road to fame — for now, rewards for her recognition include emceeing Raymioke as the opener for Warren Kinsella’s punk rock band, even though an anxiety attack kept her from following through. They plan to get it right next time.
Meanwhile, it seems unlikely that anyone will ever encroach on her turf, or at least will never be able to catch up to White’s fecund run.
“Anyone can do anything if they are charismatic and OCD enough,” she figures. “The people who are in it for the long run, you can tell them apart from the rest.
“I know practically nothing about the art world, other than my own ideas, which are probably incorrect.
“With my stuff, people either like it — or they see the potential for it being worth more one day when I’m old or dead.”
scroll@eyeweekly.com