My Train of Thought is Always Derailing

photoWhen I’m out and about, I find my little brain spinning around and fiddling with every inspiration that appears before me. Since I’m such a visually oriented person, that often means that any random object appearing before me might suddenly spur a train of thought that is tangential to the previous one–sometimes to an extreme. Sometimes that simply gives me some screwy ideas in a general way, good for a laugh but soon swatted away like a loose bit so I can return to my more purposeful track. Sometimes it just plain sends me off a mental cliff into worlds of frivolous, unrelated thoughts. After my many years of this, I’ve fully embraced the process: it’s entertaining in and of itself, as long as it’s not horridly disruptive of important stuff, and occasionally, it brings truly useful things into play and finally into focus.

Mostly, I don’t let this wackiness out fully in public. Ordinary sane people might be quite bemused by it, if not frightened. But in good company (y’all), it can be fun to share the wordplay that, often, becomes invention. Lately I’ve found myself seeing a lot of things that inspired me to wonder at the meanings of words one might ordinarily attach to them.photoIs a person who brings constant frivolous lawsuits a suer? Or is that person a suitor, because he loves to sue? Or is a person who sews suits for the wearing: is that a suitor? Maybe a suitor instead would be a person who has romantic feelings about clothing (you clotheshorses know who you are). What, then, is a sewer? Is it a person who sews? Is it a place where excrement flows? Maybe it’s both: a person who sews crappy stuff?photoWhat is an iron maiden? Is it a person who irons, or is it a tough woman? Is it a strong lady who wields an iron? Or is it, in fact, a powerful female who uses an iron to smooth out the spiny coffin wherein she resides? Perhaps it is, ironically, a superwoman who (despite being both strong and pure) is a rotten seamstress who only comes out of her spike-lined residential case occasionally to iron her handiwork.photoI suppose it’s just possible that all of this is silly and convoluted speculation. That would be true, but you have to admit that those objects I saw did invite some sort of speculation. And hey: pointless ridiculousness is my gift. You’re welcome.

Genuine Shenanigans; Accept No Substitutes

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Freedom to get up to all kinds of nonsense: one of the great perks of being a kept woman . . .

Playtime is such a necessary and fabulous thing! I am undoubtedly one of the most fortunate people on the planet: I get to have the run of my entire silly imagination and the opportunity to document it as much as time and crayons will allow. So off I go, playing like a little kid chock full of Super Sugar Blasters, not knowing in the slightest what will emerge from the madness.

That’s the fun of the whole thing.

Sure, sometimes even the pampered grassfed, free-range artist gets a chance to do a project that requires a certain gravitas. Heck, even gets an itch to do one. But really, what’s the fun of being an artiste if everything I do has to be serious? I think you know me well enough by now to figure out the likelihood of my acquiescing to a creative calling if it were an all-business sort of proposition. Oh, yeah.

Much rather draw dragons. Paint giant insects taking over the world. Sculpt gargoyle faces and build neo-Baroque furniture. Assemble pseudo-robots out of mannequin parts and small appliances (Francine, where are you now?). Design and sew evening gowns out of trash bags and plastic doilies. Sharpen the pencils again and make up stories about, say, a cat that’s figured out how to get the fish out of the aquarium but not gotten so far as to figure out how to get herself back out of the aquarium after making the catch. Kind of like being an artist who has begun to figure out how she prefers making her art but still isn’t clear on what to do with it once it’s made.

Guess I’ll post some drawings again, for a start!

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Every gift comes with a few dilemmas, it's true . . .