The Whole Kit ‘n’ Caboodle

Storm

Flash photography captures
the stingiest faces.
Fluorescent bulbs flicker
in tired corneas.
The dirt needs a friend.

It’s dry.
Institutional, sterile,
narcissistic and lonely.
It’s dry.
Crusty, burnt, shallow,
immediate and sporadic.
It’s dry.
Duchamp, Zappa, Einstein,
frustrated and aware.
It’s dry.

Creation takes time.
The dirt needs a friend.

New Energy

In the recent past I’ve considered myself a bit of a pen aficionado, always on the lookout for the magical utensil that will write and draw the ideal letters and lines every time. Now I believe I’ve found that pen, and it’s cheap enough that I’ll never be long without one (if I ever let my supply run so dangerously low). I dislike dropping brand names, but these pens will float my boat for a long time, so I figure I might as well let folks know (and since this is just a dinky personal blog without serious exposure, I think I won’t have too much of a guilty conscience about it). And considering the amount of time I’ve let this build up, now the pen won’t be nearly as cool as I’ve let on (which is what I was trying to do in the first place). My mystical utensil is nothing more than a Uni-ball Jetstream RT 1.0mm. It’s smooth and consistent and doesn’t smear and writes straight lines and has an excellent hand-feel. There’s really nothing more I could ask for in a pen.

Now that I have that branding drudgery out of the way, I can impart to you just what my life embodies since completing my treasure hunt. I have a unified source for my creativity: a box full of a dozen of these buggers. They’ve been regulated in the market to sell for no more than 3 bucks per pen, and each pen has an identical action and lifespan that regulates my own process.

I will invariably leave pens in several different locations, just so I can remember that each of those locations is a spot where creation happens. I won’t have to worry about which pen I’ll be using that time, because I’ll know exactly what line to expect. This will free me from qualifying my work as a product of different media.

My work has always been pen on paper.

Now my work will always be this pen on paper.

I move forward in a straight line with a single source,
just as a painter finds his brush and oils and canvas.
I’ve always wanted my craft to be simpler than that.
A blank sheet and a sharp ink are as close to perfection as I’ve ever seen.

Thanks for reading.

-Aidan

Victorious

We each experience our own inner hell
and peace whenever we want to. Those
feline emotions, fickle and furry,
inexplicably adorable yet sharp, clawed.

How have we made it this far? Someone
or something
must really love us.

We take the world with a grin, but shudder
at the notion of a cold slab of stone,
the way others access us; facades.

Emotions hold truth, sure, and feel good
sometimes.

Elephantiasis

This is among my very favorites. I used a Uniball Jetstream pen, as perfect a writing utensil as I’ve ever encountered.

Life and Blog Update: Drawings!

Why do I draw like that? I suppose it started as a compulsion, then quickly morphed into a craft, something I felt proficient at doing. Then I realized that most other people I’ve met cannot do what I’ve done with pens and paper, so I’ve decided to stick with this medium for posterity, to mark my progress through my life. I doubt pens will go out of style. We’ll probably have to adjust to synthetic paper not too far in the future, but I think it’ll work out all right. I’m crossing my fingers, at least.

So keep coming back to check out my drawings! I’m still working on uploading the drawings in my hard drive, but soon I’ll have to grab my sketchbooks (all umpteen of them) and scan to my heart’s content.

Cheers! Happy Tuesday!

-Aidan

NaPoWriMo (13)

The seventy-seven wavelengths
passed me by
on their way to their

equivalent of God:
the unending line segment of every crest and trough
equally infinitely spread across existence.

NaPoWriMo (12)

$: Don’t let wedlock intimidate you, son. You’ve just gotta march down that aisle, say a few things, pop the ring on her finger and you’re good to go!

#: Excuse me, old man. Just who do you think you are, and why are you breathing scotch–cheap scotch at that–in my face like that? You’re lucky I respect my elders.

&: Honey, don’t be so harsh on the man, he obviously just wants to see you have a good time at your own wedding. I mean, look at you, you’re stiff as a board!

#: What are you doing here, babe?! We’re getting married in a half an hour!

&: Well, you know how those sitcoms always do the wedding treatment, right? I figured I’d give that a shot. Where did that old wedding mumbo jumbo come from anyway? Shouldn’t it be our decision to celebrate it any way we want to?

#: Jesus. Fine, yes. While we’re at it, we might as well sneak in a quickie and shit all over this sacred day.

&: Wow, wow… that was really harsh. I’m having second thoughts about marrying you if you’re going to have that attitude about it.

#: … what a great day for a full 180°. Fine, go ahead and walk away. I don’t know where you intend on going.

&: I can sense from the edge in your voice that you’re not kidding. Honey, I’m just kidding! Please relax, baby.

$: That’s what I was trying to tell him, sugar.