Not much else going on. I'm just making art and getting ready for the Fort Hayes Alumni show deadline in August (hey do you like the logo? I did that). By the way, I will be going down to Fort Myers Florida in the middle next month briefly to visit family. Just a long weekend but it'll be good.
So here's a footnote for you. I used to take part in forums a lot more often than I do now, and when I did that I used to just write stuff. I wouldn't call it poetry, or stories, or... anything, but people after a time seemed to like it and I did get something out of it... sense of satisfaction I suppose. I've been thinking about getting back into doing that to help explore my creativity. I have a constant dialog in my head, and sometimes I think it's worth writing down, but then I don't. This kind of writing I admit is completely masturbatory, and self indulgent, doubly so because I know if I don't publicly post what I write I won't do it in the first place. It's narcissistic, I'll be the first to say so, but that won't and has never really stopped me. This need to share what I create is a big part of what makes me an artist I guess. Besides, I guess I got some stuff to say and too many people feel that way and don't. Since I know I can and will, I suppose I should. Why not, right?
Anyway, so I'm gonna occasionally post some of that crap here... because where else am I going to do it? Maybe later I'll take the stuff I like and make a book out of it with little illustrative comments or something. We will see.
So what I have right now is a kind of short story and a poem...
Williams Canyon
They giggled like doves together. She said ‘come to Williams Canyon with us tonight!’. I followed them both as they held hands before me, She with her impossible beauty and her internal damage, he with his rough leanness and his simple thoughts. I plodded slowly behind, watching them, listening. The small town we lived in fell away to a dirt road, and the rocks that would have been tan or red began to arc up on either side.
We come to a sign, “DO NOT ENTER” which we ignore as children do. What was left to is was a road long since abandoned, the memory of a creek, and the canyon walls climbing ever higher. We continued on, at times I lost sight of my guides. They were too busy with each other, trying to impress the other with stories or wry jokes, they seemed innocent, but so was I, and I knew it.
Eventually whatever road was left was gone, giving way to gravel and scrub oak. I picked my way through the rocks, slowly climbing till we reached the end. A waterfall trickled down to a small pool below us, and my friends slipped away to attend to the flirtations natural evolution for a moment. Leaving me to contemplate, I turned to see where I came from.
I have never seen a moon like this. She hung low in the sky, large yellow and full. Mountains framed her, the winking lights of Manitou decorated the dark base. I wanted to ask it everything, what was I supposed to be doing, why was I in this foreign place, what will happen next? There was no sign, no answer. Stars didn’t shoot across the sky, no animal revealed itself, it was just the scene before me and myself alone to contemplate it for that one brief moment in time.
The couple emerged dusty after beating against each other. We made our way home much as we came, but I felt like I had an answer no matter how undefined. All I could do is go forward, in the moment.
Surgery
A constant dissection running through my mind
Pulling you open with my mouth, teeth, tongue.
Flaying you, spreading you open.
Rendering you helpless.
Humility and shame will not protect you
Bodies clothe expression
Lay aside fear
This won’t hurt much, I promise.
After your assembly
When I have seen what I have recreated
I will whisper silently
Do it to me.
Here's something somewhat local to me, Roger Drawdy and the Firestarters performing Hallowed Ground (music starts at :25, -shrug-)
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