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20200710_130132

During the two official World Wars people made huge sacrifices for their country, and that not only included life and limb, but also road trips, certain foodstuffs on certain days, and–alas!–liberty, in the case of many Americans of Japanese ancestry.

During the Cold War, when there was fear of nuclear war, some people built fallout shelters and stocked them with canned goods and water, prepared to “shelter in place” until the devastation had ceased. And kids and adults alike were trained to “duck and cover” if they saw a blinding light. Never mind that this strategy was demonstrably ineffective–it was better than nothing.

But now, with a highly contagious and potentially deadly virus infecting all corners of the Earth, many of my fellow Americans cannot even be bothered to put on a sputum-blocking mask. The masks cost anywhere from near-nothing (a bandanna and two rubber bands) to a hundred-plus dollars, depending on how effective and/or fancy and/or stylish you want them to be. And many establishments give them away to their paying customers.

There is a direct correlation between the enforcement of mask-wearing and the halting of the spread of COVID-19. That many in the US ignore the correlation is partly due to the maskless example President Donald Trump sets. He has turned a public-health issue into a political issue, even though back in February he scorned the Democratic Party for “politicizing the Coronavirus.” Sadly, even his detractors have been so desensitized by his daily-basis hypocrisy that it is hard to work up outrage any more.

This has been a year of such bombardment of calamity, in fact, that people are flat-out getting used to apocalyptic conditions. As so today, triggered by a childhood memory of a “Safety Walk” in which we grade-schoolers were encouraged to “Stop, Look, Listen” before crossing the street, I flashed on the phrase “Stop/Look/Listless” as being more endemic to our situation now. And so this acrostic came to be.

So GROUNDLINGS gasp & swell
Succumb to slouched ennui

Tympani BOOM? O wells
Tsk not, mon cher petit

Oppression’s Oddly DULL
Oft RUMOR ONLY, see

Per PELIKAN & gulls
Pretend a keepsake frees

Those last two lines are a bit obtuse. Pelikan is a brand name for the India ink I used when learning to draw with a crowquill pen. “Gull” is not only a bird but a verb that means “to fool [someone].” And what kind of keepsake makes someone feel free? Could be a St. Christopher medal, popular in the late 1960s. Patron saint of Travelers. Don’t leave home without him! 🙂

Stay Safe, my friends. Fighting Listlessness will help.

There are a few sounds that non-mimicking birds make that sound like words. One of those sounds might be transliterated to “Awe!” I put “Awe!” in the bird’s word balloon, partly because [bird noise sounding like “Awe!”] might be confusing and distracting, and partly because it delights me to think that a bird taking off might FEEL the Awe that her noise implies.

2020 0707 queen n crew

queen & crew

quarantined &
ultra-chic
everclear & somewhat meek. her
enmity is just for show. she
need some Friends with need to know

It might help to think of this blog post as a carnival ride. Take or leave all the backstory and poetry, if you wish. At heart it’s an improbable occurrence that may if let mess with your middle earbones a little bit, pleasurably I hope.

2020 0703 toucan

Many years ago I read Cool Hand Luke by Donn Pearce for the first time. It was about a man who found himself in Florida, in the Raiford prison chain gang. Every 4th of July the inmates got the closest thing to a holiday the prison offered, with free lemonade and some latitude, with the thought that a positive association with Independence Day, the springboard of the United States of America, would help instill in the convicts more love of country, and therefore of law and order. Ironically enough, though, in this scene from the book, some convicts were quietly sawing through the wood floor of the building, through which some would escape, thus declaring their independence. It’s a well-crafted scene, but the only reason I bring it up is that Carr the floorwalker at one point announces, “First bell. You done had your fun.”

The sentence “You done had your fun.” has been echoing in my head for over 50 years. I use it every time I need to tear myself away from self-indulgence and get back to chores, work, or other responsible activity. Many is the time “You done had your fun.” has compelled me to walk away from a gambling venue before I put my debit card in the ATM yet another time. (I am a recovering gambling addict, what Mario Puzo called in his too-neglected novel Fools Die a “degenerate gambler.”)

I’ve been in a creative slump of late, and the combination of self-quarantine due to COVID-19 and serial movie-watching and overindulgence in various tasty treats has undermined my creative output further. Finally I grabbed myself by the scruff of the neck, figuratively speaking, and said, “You done had your fun.”

Then I realized that with alternative spelling that would actually make the phrase more Southern-sounding, “You Dun Had Yer Fun” was a perfect quintuple acrostic. It would be a bear to write, but the challenge might well pull me out of my slump some. So here we are.

Since it is a quintuple acrostic, and I took on the further challenge of keeping the verbiage to a minimum, with as little sacrifice to rhyme and meter as possible, the logic of the poem’s content goes afield more than once. But that turned out to be serendipitous, because right at the last few words there came unbidden the perfect subject matter for the illustration: an Undressed Toucan. “What kind of clothes would a toucan wear??!” “Why, self-expressive HAWAIIAN SHIRT and HAWAIIAN SHORTS, of course!!”

Nobody else on Earth, except MAYBE the latest, bleeding-edge Artificial Intelligence Artist, could have created this page. Like Peter Pan, I gotta crow about that, though with the subtextual knowledge that no one else on Earth would WANT to.

****
You Dun Had Yer Fun

You’re riding high and then you eyeball stuff
You so doubt what you’re saying off the cuff

Of course your sense can intercede for you
One scene’s unclear and typeset in Urdu

Urbane and sleek, of dearth you’re not a fan
Unless until y’undress a mere toucan
****

About that powder-blue, fizzy effacement: It is sort of a way of marking my territory. When an intaglio plate, or lithographer’s slab, is deemed by the artist to be unworthy of reproduction, the plate or stone may be slashed with an appropriate tool, indicating that any further use of the plate or stone is unauthorized. About 38 years ago I had one of my intaglios professionally printed in a limited edition. The printer included with the prints and ancillary materials the declaration: “The plate has been effaced.” Remembering that, and wanting to jazz up the image a bit, I used photoediting software to efface this too-canny effort.

Maybe it was all for a Bad Pun. In the Arizona Wildcat, the school newspaper for the University of Arizona, reviewer Bryan Johnstone called the comments by my artwork in the solo show I had in the Hall of Fame gallery “self-effacing.”

Thank you, O Reader, for reading my Bad Pun of the Day. (Actually, there are two Bad Puns in this post. Can you spot the other one?)

I can’t lose with this one. If someone doesn’t like it I can tell them it’s self-demonstrating, and of COURSE they didn’t like it, since it is a Wasted Effort…

2020 0619 wasted effort

Wasted Effort

We now no longer have Ms. G. O’Keeffe
And so we lack a mattriarchal Chief
S
ince passing Time’s an unrelenting Thief
T
here’s reason to crack open that Cointreau–O
E
piphany may quell the need to know–oR
Deem it best we bid à bientôt

Yesterday my friend Nancy cheered me up in a discussion about heart disease, which has claimed a few members of my family. So after I thanked her I asked what her favorite flower was and said I would draw some. But I drew only one. But I will no doubt draw a few more before Juneteenth, nine days from now, which I gave as my ETA.

2020 0610 hibiscus invented

hibiscus invented
to Nancy Gunther

here is a part of the scene of most scenic hawai’i
interest waxes the first time the beauty is seen
barreling next to the coastline?? a gray suv
innocent plant life’s impervious to bourgeoisie
sacreder is photosynthesis known and unknown
crisis catastrophe chaos–break us they won’t
under the spell of a magical bloom in the shade
step next to bursting bouquets and you’ll be unafraid

Stringing letters together with the English language in mind sometimes creates multiple pathways. Thus r o u n d a b o u t can be variously agglutinated to Ro und Abou T or Round Ab Out or R ou NDA B ou T, etc. And l a v a l a m p may become Lava Lamp or Lav Al Amp or or Laval AMP, and so on. Our thoughts might be otherwise diverted if we’d ever heard the band Yes sing :Roundabout,” or if we’re old enough to remember a lava lamp in a coffeehouse.

Any or all of this, or something else, might modify the flavor of those two strings of words. But if you SEE a Lava Lamp, or you are DRIVING THROUGH a Roundabout, your experience becomes not strings of letters but tangibility.

2020 0607 roundabout

r o u n d a b o u t

reminders like the tick and flea
obsess us with the honeyed b
upend the lava lamp and goo
now set the font in bold urdu
deliver us, o passe-partout

Friends, I’ve been hacking away at this drawing for days, and it’s still unfinished but at the same time teetering on the edge of Overworked. It is ambitious, and doing it stretched me some, and the next one will be better, and the young couple savoring a moment provides a bailout in that the conceit is that they are imagining these fantastical surroundings, and they deliberately leave their conceptualization incomplete, so that it will last until they finish it, which they won’t, so Forever.

There will either be a remake or a similar-themed image in the future. This time round it was make-it-up-as-you-go-along, but next time I’ll write all the acrostics first, calligraph them straightforwardly, print them, and THEN position them in space. You see in the drawing that some of the 3Difications are more convincing than others. The next one(s) will be better.

The full drawing will follow, but this detail is the heart of the matter…

20200603_161848

 

 

There’s a sort of warning in the background of this image, a sampleresque homily which has been, to my knowledge, as yet unwritten. It says “Ambiguity S O C K S.” it is sort of self-demonstrating.

I got ambitious, and my have overreached my ability –I KNOW the viewer needs all the help she or he can get, yet there’s a lot of chaos here. The double acrostic poem, “Kitchens Sync,” gives another clue as to why. A lot is thrown in.

2020 0526 kitchens sync ii

kitchens sync

kundalini yoga sends
intimation to yr friends
take a ride on grammerly
challenge all yr fammerly
help a sea or gutter urchin
end a quest 4 what yr surchin
need of job r wife r clinic
seeds yr future megacynic

When Kitchens Sync, i.e. become synchronous or achieve synchronicity, the phrase “everything but the kitchen sink” expands to become “everything INCLUDING the sinks of more than one kitchen.” I hope and trust that some enjoyment of this poem/image may be derived by looking for patterns. One example that may be missed if I don’t mention it is that the poem has one instance of the shorthand word “yr” (for “your”) in every other line of the poem. That wasn’t done gratuitously. It’s intended to reinforce the connection between the reader and the poem’s arc.  Whether it works or not is a matter of opinion–YOUR opinion.

The center figure seemed to me to look a bit like the late Hunter S. Thompson. Thompson once ran for public office, and used a symbol of his own design for the political party he was trying to get off the ground, of a two-thumbed hand gripping a peyote button. My guy doesn’t have two thumbs on his hand, but including the thumb there are six fingers. I think I owe the whimsy of that to Marc Chagall, who once gave one of his figures a seven-fingered hand. After I post this page I’ll see if Chagall had any other reason for doing that other than the sheer anarchic joy of it. If not, that was plenty–doing a little time in the Anarchic Circle is good for an artist’s refreshment. 🙂

Many of us begin or continue our day with a form of the stimulant Caffeine. In the United States of America, it is so rife as to be hard to avoid.

Caffeine Depender

Cop a cup so hotly brewed
Additives to be less rude
Find your Center with a sip
Feel that shield against the Grippe
Even-temperedness we reckon
In the first cup then the second
Need a third? the pot’s still here
Existential Warmth & Cheer

2020 0519 nes128