Back in the Spring of 1974, if memory serves, I had one semester of Class Piano at Glendale Community College. My recital piece was Bach’s Minuet in G. A few bars before the end my mind blanked and I froze. Almost instantly it cleared. When I resumed, it was on the beat, as if I’d inserted a rest to build up suspense. The relieved crowd applauded heartily.

Backlit Sonatas

Bonus Footage, mete Duress
Brahms and Bach, relieve our stress
Airs as light as toasted Eggo®
Aspirate our woes allegro
Cantos and concertos drawn
Catch the aspect of a Swan
Knowledged folk, from Quite to Nada
Keep–some can, and some cantata
Languid chords with which we’re blest
Let us f l o a t and pass the test
In a world of Pain and Mess, a
Taste of tunes may decompress

Usually when I select words of seven-letter length for the acrostic bookends it’s because I intend to write a sonnet. Sonnets are fourteen lines. I may well have intended to do so when I originally laid out this page, but when push came to crunch today I used the KISS principle. No matter what you’ve heard before, the civilized KISS stands for Keep It Simple, Sweetheart. This layered, necessarily-murky page needed, I felt, all the Simplicity it could get.

There are two awful puns in the poetry. You, dear Reader, are welcome to ignore them if you wish.

Here’s a page where there was no drawing at all with the original, which meant I needed to finish the drawing by starting it first. Had I followed through on the drawing way back when, I have a feeling there would have been a lot more bees and a bit less free-wheeling.

The poem is a sonnet in Shakespearean format. Four-letter words for the acrostic lend themselves well to the four stanzas. Using the same last letter for multiple lines makes rhyming a snap.

Free Bees

Fate makes a Queen–we kick her to the curb
FORCE breaks a bond–we fund a busy lab
For concentration leads us to disturb
Fair Lady Earth to render olive drab

Reality is cash gone through a grate
Revisionism offers souls to mete
Regard: a grumblestiltskin beast to sate
Remorselessness occurs and he’s replete

Evangelistas seem to think we’re dense
Extracting dollars feeds a vulgar taste
Exposés give detractors recompense
En-garde-ing us from love gifts sent in haste

Engage a pollinator and what Jells
Ensures a newbie Queen–and Life compels

Poor James Caan: I Don-Kinged his hair to enhance his bee-ness. 🙂

Here is a case where, way back when, I wanted.to be puzzling. So I set up an acrostic with words like Enigmatic and Mysteries and Conundrum. It had a strong foundation, but would prove to be difficult to finish.

Here are the words:

Enfield a seamless Maze of walls echoic

Now marvel at the yapoing–it’s a gecko

It has a Hapsburg jaw and it may reckon

Godheaded diptych structured as Sudoku

Myths unrevered yet they yet stir and beckon

Around the rinsed lemon if it’s fecund

The hint of Tintoretto is a wrecker

Its ichor I’ll secreted–shi go roku

Connivance tears to shreds the E-M spectrum

Inktober is over, but I still feel the head of steam, so I’ve taken on a new project. I call it Project Finishline. All I need do, every day in November, is take an artwork that’s unfinished, and finish it.

Today is a humble beginning. Here is  Before and After of something I started several years ago, and put aside. There’s a vague memory of wanting to construct a maze. But today that feels too cold and cerebral, but the framework implied by the early drawing seemed to want to lend itself to a playful network. A few friendly figures, an inscrutable cat, and a wine glass, and “Neatworking” is done and out of the Unfinished folder.

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My Handiwork is the hand I work. And sometimes some of the work goes down the drain, seemingly. Notice beneath the sketchbook there is an earlier version of today’s offering. I overworked that page, and the unforgiving medium of Ink marked my sins.

But, Friends, It’s been my experience over many years that second attempts at a drawing or painting are almost always superior to the first. So it is with this one.

hand i work

here’s your digits on a plow

arduous in keeping Tao

nor will mishaps oft occur

darting flashlights in the murk

An alternate third line is “nor will mishaps not occur.” If ever I am commissioned to do a third version of this page for a wealthy and discriminating collector of rarities, I will use the alternate third line. 🙂

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I have been seriously pursuing excellence in acrostic poetry for more than eleven years. The most excellent, the Holy Grail, of acrostic poetry is an array of words with a flawless meter and rhyme scheme, with something important to say, well said, in the content of the poetry, and with the acrostic words providing the ideally meaningful title of the poem.

This may seem like an odd pursuit to be throwing over a decade’s effort toward its furtherance. But if you want to be not merely a poet, nor even a Capital-P Poet, but the absolute best P*O*E*T it is in you to be, writing acrostic poetry makes sense. You are challenged to find words to fit the array, and the words you find may be new to you. They then become part of your arsenal. And it is even possible, as has happened today on my page, that you are compelled to bring into being words that did not yet exist. That may seem like cheating, but did you know that the name Wendy did not exist until J. M. Barrie, creator of Peter Pan, invented it?

Notice, though, how few words there are in the dual array above. How there are always three letters between acrostic elements. This is as minimal as I can possibly get with double and triple acrostic.  Let us unfold and enhance the array:

Photon Refractor

1: Photon

Prest/Helio/Onion

2: Refractor

Resurrect/Ecstatico/Felicitor

A photon is an infinitesimal thing that may or may not be visible light, depending on its frequency. PHO is something to eat. TON is a measure of heaviness. A photon has a rest mass of zero.

Prest? It’s a variant of Pressed, just as Blest is a variant of Blessed. Helio? Relates to the Sun, to mythology, and to the flower Heliotrope. Onion? It may remind people of getting to the truth, as a typical onion has many peelable layers.

A refractor is something that alters the path of a…particle? wave? Wavicle. REF is short for Referee. RAC is a versatile acronym. Here is a partial list, courtesy of The Free Dictionary:

RAC Recovery Audit Contractors (CMS, Medicare program)
RAC Religious Action Center
RAC Rent-A-Center
RAC Real Application Cluster
RAC Royal Automobile Club (UK)
RAC Railway Association of Canada
RAC Rural Assistance Center
RAC Royal Agricultural College (Cirencester, UK)
RAC Rent-A-Coder (freelancer matching service)
RAC Refrigeration and Air Conditioning
RAC Regional Advisory Council (Canada)
RAC Recombinant-DNA Advisory Committee
RAC Rotaract
RAC Research Advisory Committee
RAC Ratchet and Clank (gaming)
RAC Recent Average Credit (distributive computing)
RAC Royal Armoured Corps
RAC Room Air Conditioner
RAC Retirement Annuity Contract (UK)
RAC Reliability Analysis Center
RAC Rubber Association of Canada

It also may be pronounced “rack” which may be defined as an organizational substrate for an array of things. Above this paragraph is a RAC rack.

It is also “car” backwards.

As for Tor, it is “a hill or rocky peak” according to any number of sources. It is also a paperback book publisher specialing in the otherworldly.

Resurrection is coming back to life. Ecstatico is kind-of Spanglish for “being in a joyously energized place.” Felicitor has Happiness as its root and “one who brings about” as a suffix.

When you get this minimal, some of the heavy meaning-lift will be done by the reader. An analogous creation that comes to my mind is “Les Demoiselles d’Avignon,” a painting by Pablo Picasso. The first time I saw the painting I was repelled. It seemed ugly. Ugly colors, variably attentive anatomy, weird color and composition choices. But it has historical significance, and has been called “the first truly Cubist painting.” And the more you live with it visually, the more a word emerges from the mist: Extraordinary.

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Some men who are either insecure or haven’t got much of a life obsess and fiddle with their looks and their grooming. But in extreme cases, their grooming obsesses right back. Such is the case with my moustache. It has declared its wish to die by my hand.

I have not shaved it off yet. Time will tell.

suicidal mustache

some facial hair portends a doom

u never learn until u groom. u

inch the scissors toward the mess

could be a trim would suit it best.

it SPEAKS. “why, you condensate flea

don’t TRIM me–SHAVE me. A B C

And DO ME IN.” that plaintive screech

leaves Mary weeping in her niche.

 

I was an Art Major in the mid-70s. Then I was graduated with a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree from the University of Arizona. Then I became an Engineering student, in a special program for non-tech undergrads. It was fun at first, and I got all Bs in my three semesters of Calculus, and an odd A here and there, but my horrible study habits caught up with me and the fall semester of 1977 saw me taking Incompletes and Withdrawals from my classes. I wrote a letter to Dear Abby, an internationally-acclaimed advice columnist, about my misery, signing myself “Round Peg in a Chi-Square Hole.” I doubt if she got the Prob&Stat reference; she may not even have gotten the letter, since she never answered it publicly or privately, though I think I included a self-addressed stamped envelope.

Then I went rogue, sort of. I entered a drawing I made on an Etch-A-Sketch and signed “Johnny Incredible” in the 1977 U of A Winter Show of Student Art. (My Etch-A-Sketch tied for third place among more than 80 entries.) And for the Spring 1978 semester I took advantage of a loophole in matriculation to take, not engineering classes, but Poetry, Special Problems in Drawing, and Lithography. Somewhere in there I got a letter from then-Dean Robert Svob telling me that Professor Ferrell (Russ Ferrell, smart, great guy, taught ergonomics, published in the IEEE Transactions with his “Models of Man-Computer Interaction”) had expressed concern about me. I answered cryptically and included a five-minute line drawing of a plump man falling off a tightrope at the circus.

Long story short: Got A in Poetry, A in Lithography, and B in SpecProbDrwg. Decided to take a semester off from the stress of the U of A. That “semester off” is now 41 years, 5 months, 13 days, and counting.

Today’s images are an atypical diptych. The title might be “Art and Engineering.”

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Today I sent an e-mail to the managers of SSP America to the effect that I was not coming to work today. (I just love sentences that begin and end with the same word; don’t you?) Muscle problems have plagued me for days. First it was back spasms, then a pulled groin muscle which interfered with my sleep two nights running. So I am “resting comfortably.” I got a good slug of sleep during working hours and do feel better.

But I wasn’t up to the mental gymnastics required for acrostic-building, nor the focus required for portraiture. Today’s Inktober page relies on the faithful standby, the Triangle, with a sprinkling of circle to spice up the lineage. I’m mostly happy with the result. I think the contrasting darks give the drawing a good muscularity, and the composition during creation had a good way of righting its own wrongs. But I do wish that the thickness rheostat on my two-headed Sharpie wasn’t so un-nuanced. Grade: A minus. 🙂

I thought it would be fun to put the page in an environment, so the book it came in on stands on two nice books just acquired, one from the library and one from Goodwill. I like the resulting continuum. Hope you do too, Friends.