The High Road

An intricate series of hoofprints
on the stale lithograph
we’ve come to call home
has bled insignificantly–
but not unnoticeably.

Yes, that’s correct. Hoofprints
have bled just enough
for this observer to comment.

Now, I’m aware that there are countless crackpots
who espouse the virtues of anti-vaxxers and birthers,
and this would be right up their alley.
However, I choose to take the high road.

A wise individual once told me
that the low road is the slipperiest,
because the maintenance people need to mop
more often than on the high one

(they have the kind of smelly chemical
floor cleaner that doesn’t dry as quickly
(and they’re always out of wet floor signs)).

Strange New World

Hey folks, hope you’re all doing well in this strange new world we inhabit. This is a checking-in kind of post, where I spill my guts about my creative progress.

I suppose it would have been a good idea to make some kind of goal for this year, but that all flew out the window around these parts in about mid-March. My enthusiasm for the craft suffered, which is funny when you consider that I was doing less to occupy myself than ever before (which you’d think would contribute to a more robust oeuvre, but I ended up atrophying more than anything).

I’ve had plenty of times in the past where I’ve fallen into a ravine of amotivational behavior, and this here pandemic was all I needed to justify my paltry output.

That all being said, I’ve decided to retroactively give myself a goal to accomplish–one that’s already been accomplished! Wow, I did it!

The goal I’d just concocted is/was to reach 1,031 total posts by Halloween, 10/31/2020. Yes, I’m aware that this dating style is backwards for some of you, but it was just too convenient not to use.

The main takeaway from my creative career has been to stop seeking significance in every little detail of every little thing. Of course you can extrapolate and discover the innate meaning of the universe in pretty much anything, but those things need to be brought to life in order for you and others to dissect it in such an insane manner. My issue has always resembled getting bogged down in the significance of the idea/piece before actually composing it (sometimes without even jotting down a single word, losing it forever).

That makes for a nice segue into my new-ish passion of drawing! I’ve posted 15 drawings (as of this post) in the past 3-4 weeks, which has really been a nice cushion for helping me to exploit the algorithms.

Aside: I’ve always been aware of the power of algorithmic computing, but I’ve chosen to ignore it because I’m either too stubborn or I think my work will suffer as a result of the “interconnectivity” and “engagement”. Who even knows anymore? I’ve decided to cave in and tag the bejesus out of my work now, and I feel that all traffic is good traffic (unless it’s a bot or something, but WordPress is a great engine for helping me identify organic viewership anyway, so whatever).
Additional aside: the number of unique tags assigned to my posts has shot up to over 8,300, and soon I’ll be able to say “IT’S OVER 9,000!!!!!!”

The execution of my drawings has definitely improved since the beginning of quarantine and all that jazz, so I figured I might as well exploit those skills on the intarwebs, as they’ve been met with universal praise in my personal circles. But that drags us into the conversation about people’s friends and families blowing smoke up their artistic asses even if the work sucks. I’ve always had that kind of thought on the back burner when people compliment my work, since I have a perfectionist bent (and perfection is impossible, so that kinda sucks).

In conclusion, I’ve become inspired to keep on chugging with my work. Even though the internal naysaying is just as strong as ever, this feels like a sustainable model for providing “content” to “the world”. The fact that I have to refer to my work as “content” kind of makes me want to vomit, but I suppose we need to exist within the times.

Cheers, everyone!

-Aidan

Muse

When the Muse
presents herself to you
as fully and openly as any artist
could have ever possibly hoped
throughout human history,
all one may do is thank her
for taking the time to schedule a visit.

Her glory is unmatched when it comes to graciousness and humility; she shares no physical boundary with the human system we’ve come to regard as the established norm for what we’re supposed to embody as advanced beings on a planet where the other most-advanced large-brained mammals still “talk” in the form of growls or roars or yips or screams or ticks or pretty much any form of communication not considered oral language on par with what we use in our daily lives (let alone the kind of language a doctor or Spanish teacher needs to decode on a regular basis).

Eatery / Watering Hole

It’s that time of year again, Linda! All the kids have been plunking themselves down in front of their TVs this evening for one reason and one reason only: The 46th Annual BacArthur Restaurant Industry Genius Grant Conferment Ceremony, brought to you by Susan and Thomas Q. BacArthur, The Gene F. and Billy D. McGillicuddy Foundation, viewers like you, and several billionaires. The festivities kicked off a few hours early this year, with a charming cocktail reception that appears primed to become a yearly tradition, should the food and beverage industry continue enjoying unprecedented growth–our economic experts unanimously agree to this trend’s sustainability as we close out 2019.

Several of the past year’s top emerging bartenders have been hired to wet the whistles of the greatest eatery / watering hole luminaries in our tri-state region. If you look carefully, you might just see the glimmering looks of magnanimity in the eyes of all these foodservice professionals as they wait with bated breath to find out who’s the lucky recipient of the prize that will allow them to explore their more scholarly pursuits for at least a week–perhaps a fortnight, depending on their current cost/s of living–without having to pick up a desperation shift at the last minute next Friday night.

Truly the American Dream, Linda.

With a Vengeance

I thundered through the threshold,
enthralled by many a porcupine diary–

when will we ever learn the true everlasting
Constantinople cantaloupe constitution?
I reckon never, though many local geniuses
think there’s a global phenomenon unfolding
with a vengeance.

I can only postulate,
though the post-latte high
seems to have stalled for a moment,
just briefly enough to incriminate
the most experimental of dancers
both near and far.

We’re still left baffled
by Hemingway’s cat collection,
but a learned individual once told me
that the more toes a feline has, the closer to
ultimate self-actualization
the beholder becomes.

Shotgun or no shotgun,
there’s quite a bit of cortex
to bandy about all willy nilly
if you’re willing to lose a day or two
to the unbending, unaltered
chimpanzee rhetoric machine.
Oh lord, I’ve lost
too many days
to count.

Pigeon Sharks

Pigeon sharks
are just about as annoying
as you think they’d be,
spreading disease
while fighting over tossed carcasses.

Everywhere you turn is a scavenger
who’d once been an apex predator–
evolution shows us
how lazy certain species become.

Like Wildfire

Figurine damage indication is just one of the important areas [here at Gareth Laboratories] where I’ve made myself indispensable. I’ve trained 54 associates–and counting–to specialize in the sixteen elements that directly contribute to the continuation of our great institution. I’ve created a simple mnemonic device for them: HOME SMELLS FUNNY P. I’m not very good with anagrams, so that last P is just kind of sticking out there to the side. But that doesn’t matter very much to me, because it serves as a reminder of the absurd penguin amendment to the corporate charter that Lance’s nephew added as a joke (but then ironically caught on like wildfire when I unknowingly passed out invitations to the zoo’s new special penguin house later that afternoon). Coincidences sure are a bitch.