2002.06.04 parts of a whole:
well well. paul has finally delivered a piece of the puzzle that is my next poetry book. i had commissioned him… must have been two years ago… to write up a nice introduction to my second volume of poetry (since he'd had the honor of doing the cover for the first one). well, in a flash of inspiration today, he completed that task, and did a fine job. so, for multiple reasons, i'm going to let you guys be the first to read it!
there comes a time in the lives of most young adults when the pangs of emotional confusion run headlong into artistic cathartic bliss. the resulting carcass from this car wreck of a creative process lies there and begs us to stare. not that i'm equating the writings presented here as being that of roadkill stench nor am i making a statement about the writer's technique in developing his work. my point is simply this: angst + outlet = art (and believe me, art – outlet = angst). and sometimes this process happens violently and without warning.
what lies past this page is the result of the dangerous mixture of broken hearts, romantic bliss, christian upbringing, a mad ingestion of literature, broken computers, cat hair, heatless winters, windless summers, malt liquor, credit card debt, cigarettes and most importantly: coffee. and not any ordinary coffee, either. this is the foul-tasting, bottomless swill that leaves the bitter aftertaste of the chemicals used to clean the pot the night prior. coffee: the fuel of the artist, the blood of the angry young man. coffee is what kept the producer of the following work of words up countless nights so that he could spill his soul onto paper.
and why should i be able to make such declarations about the thought processes and motivations of this book's author? because i was there, i witnessed those events, i lived those events, and, yes i have been that young man, too. i have drank that coffee and have breathed those smoke-filled, sleepless nights. i have felt the long hot summer of the creative drought followed by the flood of ideas. what lies beyond is a monsoon. now is the time to go outside, lose your umbrellas and get wet.
paul steven brown
june 4, 2002
now i just need to get off my ass and finish pulling the book together. if anyone wants to contribute artwork, send me some samples and i'll send you some poetry to work from.
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paul said:
oh, i see how it is. it's all my fault. i'm the one that's held the whole freakin' process up. not the author of the book. i should known.
nice transference, buddy.
m@ said:
what can i say, it's what i'm best at.
and anyway, i can use a little guilt-offload at this juncture.
paul said:
just not in my hair this time.
Nate said:
Hey, I never got paid for my introduction… what all does this "commissioning" involve you seedy shits?
paul said:
for your information, i got fuck all for my intro! hell, i didn't even get a finished edition of the first book and i did the bleeding cover!
m@ said:
yes, and that does need to be rectified, for both of you. you'll each get a free copy of both books. 😉
now, does that make you happy? probably wouldn't make me happy, but i'm kind of grasping at straws here.
Nate said:
Happy is easy. It's getting girls to let you poke them in the ass that's hard.
Nate said:
Paul seem bitter to anyone?
brian. said:
jesus…update you stupid bitchmonkey…
Nate said:
HEY! Don't go calling my friend a… well… you know… he *is* kind of a bitch and a dick-monkey, hence bitchmonkey would be an appropriate thing to call him. Especially considering he'll probably never respond to it…
paul said:
monkeys are neat.
Nate said:
I personally can't wait for the day when we all have monkey-butlers.
brian. said:
and midgets to "service" us. yeah…midgets and monkeys…
Nate said:
Hot midgets.
paul said:
two words y'all: midget monkeys.
paul said:
bipolar puts baby jesus to sleep.
Nate said:
Hot midget monkeys. With wigs.