Log 357 ~Art Should Never Have Rules~

So I’m throwing things up against the wall this week to see what sticks? What I’m not Taylor Swift, Alanis Morissette, or Corinna? To be honest, though, I was whining like a “Shallow Boy.” Art Should Never Have Rules even when talking about “yabbos…”

Monday, June 22, 2020

Log 357 ~Art Should Never Have Rules~

Hundred And Forty-Second Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and it’s because I finally published my story? What about I appreciate the beauty of women? It could be that My Dæmon is so “darn” cute. Someone said that chicks dig scars. I wonder, am I saying that art needs to be beautiful? This morning I looked into the question, What Is Art? Talk about opening up a can of worms and negating the point I want to make. Art Should Never Have Rules, and yet all my life I have lived by a “very spoken” code.

Yesterday I talked about not being beautiful myself. Now, of course, someone would say I’m being cynical. Christians would say I was made by the hand of the divine, so why complain now. The same “force” that brought forth the Devil? I am a creation, and nowhere does that require beauty. Yet I honor what I find as such and the method I do so… Well, Madam Justice, that’s the problem, isn’t it? I have several books, but I remain silent. Hell, isn’t that the highest compliment ever? If I kept my mouth shut, I would have a beautiful woman to look forward to in MILF Dos. Instead, my latest artistic contributions have been nothing but watching my pain. As the song goes, Joy and Pain. Art makes you feel something, isn’t that the truth?

It’s a monster, and I swear everything inside me wants to turn my head and run. I want to close my eyes and pretend it isn’t there. It’s like a gallery inside my head and for someone like me who despises working retail. Everything must go Madam Justice, and yet no one is buying. So I’ll pay Madam Justice, I’ll give all that I have if only to escape my works. Only if my gallery is ugly, and all that I find beautiful is wrong. What is left to a man like me, I ask?

Did you notice (Sunday) I didn’t bother saying Happy Father’s Day? Now I could say I forgot which I tend to do plenty of when I’m time traveling (today is Sunday). Am I to thank my father for the mess that made me? I’m a father too, and I look at my son, who’s both the greatest and… um anyway. I am an artist, and along with criminals and gods, all that I am now, Art Should Never Have Rules.

I Will Have No Fear