MY BIG PANDEMIC IDEAS MISTAKES & SUCCESSES SO FAR…
My “ODE TO WARDY JOUBERT III / PART ONE: THE END OF THE UNITED STATES AND THE FUTURE OF BLACK DICK IN AMERICA” is no longer a relevant title for all i need want must say about him me the world, because events, along with my understandings of them, are happening so fast, my thoughts outrun any title i think will tether me to one concept… thesis statement with supporting paragraphs.. but i only have time to caterwaul / and can barely keep up as it is.
The vests …we don’t like the colors together. i’m all for clownish but even i have a limit. / so fuck making the vests a public thing to sell online. / back to local…
which brings me to drawing the only dick i currently live with, James’ white penis, for Wardy’s piece, has my brain cramping up with charlie horses about how absurd skin color is ever, when dick is dick is a dick and that which we call a dick by any other name would taste just as sweet .
but what distracted me most from actually completely the drawing above, was not that the title was already too small and irrelevant way before i even began to ink it, but that merely lovingly illustrating a hard natural penis (as opposed to a disembodied dildo), felt titillating and like i was doing something very, very wrong. like when i “used to” draw my own personally-tailored pornographic art to jerk off to. / “used to” is in quotes because really, it’s all i do now that i’m fully grown.
that’s a sign to me that natural dick is dangerous, and thus titillating to me as a natural, dyed in the wool, pain in the ass artist who loves to provoke… poke anything anyone….
i use my Penis Envy differently. i don’t want you to cut it off or hide yours away, i want you to impress me by peeing over tall buildings in a single stream so that i may know what is possible.
so these are not failures, then. the internet of things makes everything like a short montage where hard work only takes 3 minutes with its own soundtrack, and this has warped my memory of the work mess time misery and courage that is necessary to get to the other side of this road in real fucking LIFE.
i share my big failures here to rebel against montage thinking to remind you of the sweaty hell …drunken fights of despair …cop calls…. all wastes of time. but failure is tricky to deceiving just as success and happiness are. i’ll show you. i’m still floundering. floundering, not knowing ANYTHING, being wrong, messy is a necessary place to learn to get comfortable first…
..and it’s contradictory but when you don’t take yourself so fucking seriously and get your sense of humor back about your asshole silly absurd self and your big ideas, you can actually accept it then double down and go in bigger and more epic. / watch this. because i’m going to start something i’m too audacious to even write in one complete sentence in one place. the dream needs to stay scattered around like spilled glitter for the time being.
i need to see what happens. who’s up for the adventure. and …which adventure? i’ve got a bouquet of raw ideas waiting to see who thinks which ones are pretty.
for now, the pom poms i put on my flip flops are a raging success for me. and i finally shaved my legs, then painted my toenails and fingernails for the drummers who appeared in the park, as well as the supermarket employees i adore. sometimes that has to be more than enough for right this second. / x