as an artist, art is what i like to do most. it's my passion! the thrill of inspiration, the immersion in the work, hours going by unnoticed as i feverishly seek to put my vision on canvas. i feel so alive! so real! so important!
this afternoon i was walking back from the store and i saw a homeless man sitting there with his hat out. at once an idea began to possess me. the droop of his shoulders, the ineffable look of hopelessness on his face - i had to capture it. feverishly, i ran the rest of the way home and began scribbling on paper. would the #2 charcoal do? yes, it gave me just the right line. a heavy shading, a hint of clouds or perhaps open sky in the background, the sense of a rising wind, alone in emptiness. "despair" i would call it, or "nothing left to lose". the tears rose to my eyes as i saw how moving it would be, there in the gallery alongside "three dead men", "a rose for bonita" and other recent works.
signing my creation with a flourish, i reluctantly left the studio to attend a reception downtown. it would be a dull and pointless evening, if well-catered, but who knew when inspiration might strike again, there among the palms - perhaps i would see a lost child, a stray dog, an old woman unable to get her wheelchair through the revolving doors. there were so many possibilities! i was moved even as i thought of it, and longed to return to my canvas. but the taxi was waiting, and i must go!
Monday, August 19, 2013
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Johnson's - the return
all was quiet on the toast market for many a year, nothing but Dryman's, Soggeez, No'Buttr, and the like. it wasn't much of a choice. "i feel dead" complained douglas, confronted with this ghastly array. "i wish i were!' countered timothy, who was just old enough to remember the glorious pre-war days of Johnson's.
"do you remember..." he began wistfully, and douglas's eyes lit up. "oh, those golden afternoons." "it wasn't just youth, was it? it was Johnson's Toast!" "it was!" "oh, i'd look forward to it all day." "it went with everything!" "made everything better!"
to see these two old men in tears was more than i could bear. i had taken everything from them, their youth, their health, their livelihoods, left them broken and sere, worn before their time. i had done them wrong! it was too late now to return their golden locks, their springy vigor, that youthful hope and dedication...but i could at least give them toast!
oh god, turn back the clock for me! i cried. and somewhere far away, a year or two ago, the wheels began to turn again, and a glorious new Johnson's factory arose from the barren plain. soon, the trucks went out again, to north and south, east and west, from the halls of academe to the useful repair shops and small home businesses, the cafeterias and waiting rooms, the small-town parks and sports arenas. a knock on the door, that special double-rap, that gladdens the heart of man, for it is teatime (or afternoon coffee if you prefer), and here is the Johnson's! away, ye Soggeez, ye Dryman! i shall hurl you from this world, yea into into the very void, and usher in a new era of peace and prosperity.
two old men wept for joy, looking heavenward, their shaking hands holding each a slice of fresh, rich new Johnson's, guaranteed crisp, never flaky. you can eat it on a bench, no mess! take it anywhere! try all three flavors - one's sure to please!
and i, i knew i had done right. i had repented my age-old sin, my rebellion against the highest. i bowed my humble head. now i would serve for all time - serve them with Johnson's Toast!
"do you remember..." he began wistfully, and douglas's eyes lit up. "oh, those golden afternoons." "it wasn't just youth, was it? it was Johnson's Toast!" "it was!" "oh, i'd look forward to it all day." "it went with everything!" "made everything better!"
to see these two old men in tears was more than i could bear. i had taken everything from them, their youth, their health, their livelihoods, left them broken and sere, worn before their time. i had done them wrong! it was too late now to return their golden locks, their springy vigor, that youthful hope and dedication...but i could at least give them toast!
oh god, turn back the clock for me! i cried. and somewhere far away, a year or two ago, the wheels began to turn again, and a glorious new Johnson's factory arose from the barren plain. soon, the trucks went out again, to north and south, east and west, from the halls of academe to the useful repair shops and small home businesses, the cafeterias and waiting rooms, the small-town parks and sports arenas. a knock on the door, that special double-rap, that gladdens the heart of man, for it is teatime (or afternoon coffee if you prefer), and here is the Johnson's! away, ye Soggeez, ye Dryman! i shall hurl you from this world, yea into into the very void, and usher in a new era of peace and prosperity.
two old men wept for joy, looking heavenward, their shaking hands holding each a slice of fresh, rich new Johnson's, guaranteed crisp, never flaky. you can eat it on a bench, no mess! take it anywhere! try all three flavors - one's sure to please!
and i, i knew i had done right. i had repented my age-old sin, my rebellion against the highest. i bowed my humble head. now i would serve for all time - serve them with Johnson's Toast!
Saturday, April 27, 2013
poetry under interference
stuck beside a keyboard i
struggle to combine
the narrows of the gap it hinders
and something something mine
connect within the willow (?) spheres
and carry through the line
an end that something interfaces
and something something blind
rise into the something something
and carry on the line
something always interferes
and something something mine
struggle to combine
the narrows of the gap it hinders
and something something mine
connect within the willow (?) spheres
and carry through the line
an end that something interfaces
and something something blind
rise into the something something
and carry on the line
something always interferes
and something something mine
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
another day, another case
i arrived on planet zoltor at approximately the rising of the second moon. immediately my guide materialized and directed me to the two neither-alive-nor-dead persons that i had been notified of shortly before. they continued in their present state, unsurprisingly.
when i foolishly attempted to question them, i was no further along. the usual stream of childhood babble, obvious flattery, visions of god and infinity, etc. all very well, but what i need is a CLUE!
well, what else was in the vicinity? had it remained untouched as i insisted? "oh no, sir," the guide smirked, but i felt it wouldn't have changed much. the remnants of a meal, some overturned furniture (though on this planet hard to tell), a few misleading fragments of paper and the like. i unfolded one to find the net address of Galaxy Central, which of course i already had memorized.
as i studied the abstract representation of a mildly obscure act from an entirely different civilization (found on another fragment), one of the neither-alives drifted over, oddly squeaking. was there a connection? alas, it continued on by and bumped into one of the walls. this was not getting me anywhere!
waving the guide out of the room, i sat down on one of the "overturned" chairs and began to ponder. that had always been my strong point. was i reminded of anything? a faint glimmer from years ago awoke, and rapidly went to sleep again. another, bolder, decided to stay around, and i realized that i was back on planet P, not literally of course as i had no teleportation credits available, but the memory was strong and i could well-nigh scent the jasmine breeze. there, too, had been this state of inanition, this puzzling entryway between the worlds. a younger i had not understood, and attempted to revive the victims. peaceful smiles met me as they floated away, and one seemed to produce my destiny ere he went. now, i began to understand "they must be let through", a voice may have cried, but was that my job? i was a mere detective, no releaser of souls. and if i succeeded, would i in fact be guilty of their demise? oh, what was an upright law-abiding person to do? luckily, i wasn't one.
a few mystic passes did nothing, and i was forced back on my resources. "just tell me who did this to you, and i will OPEN THE GATE," i craftily declaimed. the squeaking increased, and a vision of madness luckily passed me by. in truth, i saw it all, but as from the view of a 4-eyed wagnolian, rather hard to decipher. but the essentials were there, and i could ponder them later.
again, the past surrounded me, that old man, that fragrant hilltop...the sun a-rising... i murmured the words as i closed my eyes and waited. a light thump told me i had succeeded.
when i foolishly attempted to question them, i was no further along. the usual stream of childhood babble, obvious flattery, visions of god and infinity, etc. all very well, but what i need is a CLUE!
well, what else was in the vicinity? had it remained untouched as i insisted? "oh no, sir," the guide smirked, but i felt it wouldn't have changed much. the remnants of a meal, some overturned furniture (though on this planet hard to tell), a few misleading fragments of paper and the like. i unfolded one to find the net address of Galaxy Central, which of course i already had memorized.
as i studied the abstract representation of a mildly obscure act from an entirely different civilization (found on another fragment), one of the neither-alives drifted over, oddly squeaking. was there a connection? alas, it continued on by and bumped into one of the walls. this was not getting me anywhere!
waving the guide out of the room, i sat down on one of the "overturned" chairs and began to ponder. that had always been my strong point. was i reminded of anything? a faint glimmer from years ago awoke, and rapidly went to sleep again. another, bolder, decided to stay around, and i realized that i was back on planet P, not literally of course as i had no teleportation credits available, but the memory was strong and i could well-nigh scent the jasmine breeze. there, too, had been this state of inanition, this puzzling entryway between the worlds. a younger i had not understood, and attempted to revive the victims. peaceful smiles met me as they floated away, and one seemed to produce my destiny ere he went. now, i began to understand "they must be let through", a voice may have cried, but was that my job? i was a mere detective, no releaser of souls. and if i succeeded, would i in fact be guilty of their demise? oh, what was an upright law-abiding person to do? luckily, i wasn't one.
a few mystic passes did nothing, and i was forced back on my resources. "just tell me who did this to you, and i will OPEN THE GATE," i craftily declaimed. the squeaking increased, and a vision of madness luckily passed me by. in truth, i saw it all, but as from the view of a 4-eyed wagnolian, rather hard to decipher. but the essentials were there, and i could ponder them later.
again, the past surrounded me, that old man, that fragrant hilltop...the sun a-rising... i murmured the words as i closed my eyes and waited. a light thump told me i had succeeded.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
random update
does every day seem like more of the same? do you need things like "holidays", weekly tv shows, etc, to give you the illusion that it isn't? oh come on, i just visited the family, got drunk, ate too much, AND watched the perry como christmas special! now THAT doesn't happen every day.
well, yes, but it happens nearly every month. oh clearly it will be the joe jones january bash the next time around, but the general idea remains the same. then back to work, "friends" reruns with the old gang on saturday... maybe you wore your new jeans or had your hair streaked. it's like a whole new you!!
so why this giant bait and switch game anyway? it seems impossible that an intelligent species could really spend all their time worrying about their hair and what's on tv and did you hear jolly's new single "albatross" it has a really rad bass line??? surely there must be something MORE! oh yes you with the genesis box set, yes i know you're completely different, or at any rate 30 years older.
yes, but ARE they an intelligent species?
woah.
perhaps we need to reclassify them. wow. suddenly things fall into place. a sort of clever animal with a lot of manual ability, then? like a monkey that has figured out how to type (heh heh).
in which case he might sound very much like "friends", "sex and the city", etc. oh bloggo i must have sex with you, but first i need some new leaves in my hair! oh zumba yes but your blazing eyes make me require fresh sustenance. is there more of this fermented banana?
yes alas. and when they "get married" the little monkeys will require nose jobs music lessons and all the right accessories. and bloggo will have an "affair" with somebody at the "office", and zumba will console herself with a frienzied round of gathering and self-ornamentation possibly folllowed by heavy flirtations with the fellow who does the music lessons. while little pek and mango look on.
i am so sorry planet earth but you are not ready yet. your high technology and philosophical speculations had us fooled for a while, but alas it could not last. like in any statistical distribution, a few of you show gropings towards something more, but how easily conquered by "sex", banana juice, or the guy next door deciding to repaint his house that annoying shade of blue. small concentrations are luck-based and do not last. the animal returns and takes it over very rapidly (see crusades, the doctrine of predestination, manifest destiny, et al.) you do talk very impressively, that we admit.
perhaps another million years or so? in the meantime you won't mind if we confine you to your solar system, i'm sure. genuine mars rocks in all-platinum frame only $5000! just what your "boyfriend" might like for christmas.
well, yes, but it happens nearly every month. oh clearly it will be the joe jones january bash the next time around, but the general idea remains the same. then back to work, "friends" reruns with the old gang on saturday... maybe you wore your new jeans or had your hair streaked. it's like a whole new you!!
so why this giant bait and switch game anyway? it seems impossible that an intelligent species could really spend all their time worrying about their hair and what's on tv and did you hear jolly's new single "albatross" it has a really rad bass line??? surely there must be something MORE! oh yes you with the genesis box set, yes i know you're completely different, or at any rate 30 years older.
yes, but ARE they an intelligent species?
woah.
perhaps we need to reclassify them. wow. suddenly things fall into place. a sort of clever animal with a lot of manual ability, then? like a monkey that has figured out how to type (heh heh).
in which case he might sound very much like "friends", "sex and the city", etc. oh bloggo i must have sex with you, but first i need some new leaves in my hair! oh zumba yes but your blazing eyes make me require fresh sustenance. is there more of this fermented banana?
yes alas. and when they "get married" the little monkeys will require nose jobs music lessons and all the right accessories. and bloggo will have an "affair" with somebody at the "office", and zumba will console herself with a frienzied round of gathering and self-ornamentation possibly folllowed by heavy flirtations with the fellow who does the music lessons. while little pek and mango look on.
i am so sorry planet earth but you are not ready yet. your high technology and philosophical speculations had us fooled for a while, but alas it could not last. like in any statistical distribution, a few of you show gropings towards something more, but how easily conquered by "sex", banana juice, or the guy next door deciding to repaint his house that annoying shade of blue. small concentrations are luck-based and do not last. the animal returns and takes it over very rapidly (see crusades, the doctrine of predestination, manifest destiny, et al.) you do talk very impressively, that we admit.
perhaps another million years or so? in the meantime you won't mind if we confine you to your solar system, i'm sure. genuine mars rocks in all-platinum frame only $5000! just what your "boyfriend" might like for christmas.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
further moralistic observations from outer space
yes, time for more sparkling commentary on planet earth! for instance, while many of its citizens consider themselves religious, or possibly scientific atheists, there is a clear tendency towards unabashed paganism. just regard the easter bunny, santa claus, "uncle sam" et al. under the sheer commercialism of it, which may waylay you, is a greedy wish for endless celebration. if in any doubt, notice the proliferation of newer spring holidays - you can now enjoy guilt-free drunkenness every few weeks until it's warm enough for picnics again!
meanwhile the year descends towards so-called thanksgiving, in which drinking is closely followed by overeating (see christmas), likewise college football. and speaking of a pagan celebration! young men in tights and shoulder pads hurtling against one another as the lone runner strives for the goal. soon to be followed by young men in shorts tossing balls through a basket, young men in stripes hitting balls with a bat, and older men in plaid hitting very small balls with a long expensive stick.
but against the clean apollonian cult of the sporting life is set the dark dionysian mysteries of the so-called "rock" world. youngish men in black leather and eyeliner hurl themselves around stages, often proudly addled with drugs. and do not inquire what happens afterwards! if you doubt the religious overtones, note the swooning "fans", likewise those who will pay hundreds for a souvenir of their idol, preferably signed. a small altar in the corner of the home is nice, and if it gets too crowded, there's always ebay.
we have nothing against pagans on the whole, but it would be nice if they could just admit it. a christmas tree packed with goodies and an "angel" on the top doesn't quite make your priorities clear. no not even if it plays "away in a manger"and comes with matching barstools! (see also easter, if you can even remember that it once had some significance other than chocolate rabbits and candy eggs, hint hint.)
sometimes one suspects their secret wish is to return all the way, a giant ecological disaster and then straight back to full-blown paganism, leaping in the fields, altars everywhere. no more fussing around with attempts at higher civilization: it wasn't much fun, was it?
ah well, a mere 44 shopping days till christmas - the biggest retail season of the year!
meanwhile the year descends towards so-called thanksgiving, in which drinking is closely followed by overeating (see christmas), likewise college football. and speaking of a pagan celebration! young men in tights and shoulder pads hurtling against one another as the lone runner strives for the goal. soon to be followed by young men in shorts tossing balls through a basket, young men in stripes hitting balls with a bat, and older men in plaid hitting very small balls with a long expensive stick.
but against the clean apollonian cult of the sporting life is set the dark dionysian mysteries of the so-called "rock" world. youngish men in black leather and eyeliner hurl themselves around stages, often proudly addled with drugs. and do not inquire what happens afterwards! if you doubt the religious overtones, note the swooning "fans", likewise those who will pay hundreds for a souvenir of their idol, preferably signed. a small altar in the corner of the home is nice, and if it gets too crowded, there's always ebay.
we have nothing against pagans on the whole, but it would be nice if they could just admit it. a christmas tree packed with goodies and an "angel" on the top doesn't quite make your priorities clear. no not even if it plays "away in a manger"and comes with matching barstools! (see also easter, if you can even remember that it once had some significance other than chocolate rabbits and candy eggs, hint hint.)
sometimes one suspects their secret wish is to return all the way, a giant ecological disaster and then straight back to full-blown paganism, leaping in the fields, altars everywhere. no more fussing around with attempts at higher civilization: it wasn't much fun, was it?
ah well, a mere 44 shopping days till christmas - the biggest retail season of the year!
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