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20200822_115942

A performance is an event in time, made up of many sub-performances. A drawing or painting is a different kind of performance. All you see is what remains on the page, or the canvas, when the artist stopped.

But when I stopped working on this drawing, I intended the viewers to have a different experience, one that would be interactive whether the viewer chose to interact or not. To at least a small extent the viewer will “finish” the page in her or his mind. And, imperfect as my technique is, there is an opportunity for the viewer to create an image, and acrostic poetry, superior to what I have done.

Of course, all of the above paragraph might well be rationalizing nonsense by someone who is too lazy to finish the drawing and the poems…

But no. The pair of couplets at upper right establish that I meant to leave the image in glorious disarray.

Inglorious disarray, I tell you. 🙂

Goal might be Attainment or Aspiration or Ball Meets Net. Post: Mail Pickup/Delivery or After or Online Creation or Cylindrical Supportive Object or Emily the Mannered’s Last Name. And Goal Post is either End Zone Structure or Benchmark Blog Entry.

I had intended to do a special Goal Post called “Blog Post #1700: Score!” Alas, I lost track, and this is actually Blog Post #1704. “Our beginnings never know our ends,” said Thomas Stearns Eliot. How right he was, and remains.

2020 0808 goal post

goal post

grant that a metabolism runs on atp
obligating intake lets an anabolic be. o
as we take our nourishment in mres or feasts
let’s feed our spirit with an imam rabbi monk or priest

EVERYONE has a Spiritual Side, Friends. Everyone believes SOMETHING, if only “I believe I’ll have another beer.” Your beliefs are your motorized transport. Safe passage to you!

PS–ATP is muscle fuel. Anabolics build muscle. MREs are Meals Ready to Eat. Imams are Islamic clergy. Robbis are Jewish clergy. Monks and priests are Catholic or Buddhist clergy.

The United States is in many ways the worst country on Earth in terms of the coronavirus. And Arizona is one of the worst states, and Phoenix one of the worst cities. Here I am, a house-arrest Exile. But I have chosen to share my image with a remastered Botticelli’s Venus. Her clamshell will protect her.

20200807_234816

Covid Exile

Camelot just got the axe…Other regions proved too lax…Venus clamm’d by Botticelli Isolates her fare-thee-well…Desperation wrings a Belle.

2020 0804 hoo

“journal lissome” is, of course, a Bizarro-World take on “journalism.” The crucial questions of Journalism, Who, What, Where, When, Why, and How, have here been Bizarroed into Hoo, Wat, Wer, Wen, Wie, and Hao. One reason for this is that when you see a drawing or painting that is deemed “non-objective,” i.e. not supposed to represent any object made or found, the human mind cannot help but compare what is seen WITH things already seen. So “That looks like…” is a common reaction, when faced with something that isn’t supposed to look like anything but itself.

What I have drawn with pen and wash and Magic Marker looks calligraphic to me, or like dancers, or plant life. When you bring your own lifetime of visual experience to my drawing you will see something at least slightly different.

Hoo Wat Wer

Half a freeway costs us now
O we Cheatham yes and Howe
On the Rote its sweet and Sour

Wen Wie Hao

With a Bowie we say Noh
Endostrictive with a Boa
N E 1 beheld may Lo

 

There is a coin shortage in the United states of America. Less commerce is being conducted on the premises of brick-and-mortar establishments, and when there is commerce, debit/credit card use is encouraged, in order to reduce personal contact and maintain social distancing. This is yet another facet of the COVID-19 pandemic.

Unbidden, the acrostic “COIN FIX& FLIP” came to me. “Fix and flip” is a term usually applied to cheaply-bought houses or automobiles. The faster a house or car is repaired and sold, the more Flippy the Flip is. But when it comes to the coin shortage, you get extra mileage out of the Flip aspect, if you are as miserable a punster as I am. To complete the wretchedness, the spot illustrations are all coin-related bad puns.

2020 0716 coin fix n flip

coin fix n flip

change CHANGING from Cha-CHING as if
one pops anon before it snaps. i’ll
in FILTRATE explain the diff — i
need to CEDE & cut the CRAP

This mostly makes sense if you are a Southwestern American on the vulgar side. “Change” is short for “pocket change,” which is coins.”Cha-CHING” is onomatopoetic slang for making money. “Pop” has a moiney connotation. “95 cents a pop” means 95 cents each. A Filtrate is the stuff that’s being filtered, in this case coins being filtered out of circulation. To Cede is to give way to pragmatism. “Cut the Crap” is vulgar Americanese for “End this nonsense.”

If you find it dense or difficult, Friends, try James Joyce’s Finnegans Wake. Mercy!

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