Tuesday, May 17, 2016

Grave-gray or sky-blue


In this week leading up to my sixtieth birthday, I have had multiple interviews with the mad artist who made me, and asked him, and her — for they are both simultaneously, and in turn — not whether the current version of me represents any desired perfection, but if it gives them satisfaction — in a word, are you pleased, dear Madame, or am I soon to be improved in a brighter more colorful draft with more faithful lines — or if not more faithful, kind Sir, more deeply revealing? — or are you, as I suspect, not quite finished works of art yourselves, because I am the mad artist painting you? Let it be grave-gray or sky-blue, whatever the answer — and I expect and wish for none — may I here, at least, express my gratitude?


4 comments:

Stream Source said...

You know you’re being used, of course. 'From God's lips to my ears' ... only there is no middle man, as that old story goes.

We are the user and the used.

Mad artists are we in a hide and seek charade. We ask the same questions and the same answers come, but not in exactly the same way.

What a humor he.she.we does have.

Thank you.

thanks

you ~

William Michaelian said...

Thank you ~

Gary B. Fitzgerald said...

Writing at Night

I had planned to write about that owl tonight.
I heard him calling from the wood, but now
I’m thinking that I should write my will.
I’ve put it off as long as I could.
I should list all my assets and debts,
my most treasured and valuable goods,
pay the balance on lost bets
for those I leave behind.

Maybe I could just write a letter
to everyone I’ve wronged, that I’ve maligned,
make this page an apology for all
the things I’ve screwed up in my life,
all the things I sought but could never find.
Or, at least, leave a thank you note
for having had it.

Copyright 2009 – Tall Grass & High Waves, Gary B. Fitzgerald

William Michaelian said...

Thanks, Gary. Sounds mighty fine out here in the tall grass and high waves.