Saturday, 2 March 2013

Dousing for Spingtime

Stop all this clicking and write something wonderful, like a bat going Hah-Hah! or like all those crows you said you'd persuade to be your people. Make good art, that's the thing, but bad art is better than not-art and everything is better than the internet, that foul and hungry beast. If I could show you a graph with all the hours you've wasted on click and refresh, you would weep, or you would post it on your blog and wait to see if the world was impressed. We are all, all of us, reaching out to the world through what we have got and the instant gratification is so sweet but the longer you spend tapping your finger like a cuck-headed pigeon, the less it all works out in the end.

Can you see that speck of blue sky over there dictating your feeling like a jolly puppet master saying jump, jump, leap! It's okay to give yourself up to that guy, because that guy know how to make the good times roll. Like the good times are dice and you are playing craps with the Devil and he promised you something good if you got all doubles, and you're in this one three for three.

Do you think that creation is more like tapping into the great unwashed source pipe or do you like to pretend you're making your own castles with sand and clay? That's the question we're pondering on today's snatch game, that's the one that keeps coming up with all the bells.

I'd like to believe that it is not just me and these are not all mine; may I give up my charges, may I pass them along? What if all these pens and pencils were just crossed sticks dowsing for water, if by water I mean a story that is burbling under the earth, if by dowsing I mean showing up every day and hoping for the best? In the end that is all I got and all you got and the rest is just $20,000 in the pocket of your MFA master and a couple of contacts in a pocket, folded in half from the sun.

I guess what I am trying to say is here I am and I am waiting, I have fulfilled my side of the bargain, I am sat here on a Saturday morning at first light with black coffee and a green fleece blanket wrapped around my waist. This spot is surrounded by yellow cut flowers, tulips on the right and roses on the left, and type-written go-faster slogans all across my wall and the forehead of my laptop, that's got to be something, that's got to be enough.

We would like to take a fast trip to an outcrop of rock, sit there sipping cold fizzy wine while the waterfall behind us practices channeling his own Zeus, tapping out his own thunder, bang bang bang. We would like to take a slow stroll to a piney forest, walk there with squidged white bread sandwiches in a screen printed cloth bag, bend and sniff that woodland floor, wow wow wow. And I don't know about you but I've been dreaming of the children's playground at night with the red and blue roundabout, I want to hold onto the bars and lean backwards and open my mouth and spin around, around, whee!

All these options for a springtime day, because we are back there after the darkest winter since records began, so the papers tell us, so the outlets whine. I stayed indoors and tried to tap that rock seam, wiggling my crossed sticks, waiting my turn. But I am goddamn glad it is over, I am ready for fleeted feet and hip hoorays, I am longing for the sun.

Would you like to stand outside, anywhere, just outside as long as there is some kind of pure on light switching across your skin? I would. This is actually all I have to say today, in this roundabout backandforth way, in this way and that: It is March now and we have bright bicycles, the lakes are wet, pleasure is a smooth and simple pebble, buy me an orange and watch me throw it in the air and play catch.

I am opening myself up to happiness, I am stretching my fingers in each direction and leaving my chest and belly unguarded, I do not mind if it comes as a wallop or a pat. I am here and the sun is shining and you are in the bedroom and life is pretty damn fine. I am going to pour another cup of coffee from the percolator and stand outside in this blanket and drink it. I am going to wave at the neighbours and grin at the sun.

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