s n a p p e r h e a d

A Music Playlist Keeping sAd (senility Alzheimer's dementia) Away

This 62-song playlist is me memory-flexing and sAd combatting*—which occurred not only during the exercise of digging, stacking and bolting shiny-bits to shadow-bytes (resulting in a spiral staircase climbing thru my years) but, hopefully, re-occurs during my future listen-thru's.

If you don't already know: my biggest fear is losing the me of my memories. Worse, would be to not be cognizant of it happening as it's happening—to lose and never miss things that I consider intrinsic raises my hackles. The reason this doesn't feel like an unreasonable apprehension is because my elderly female ancestors succumbed to sAd and all my male ancestors died before they were elderly (so even though I'm now officially an elder, I have no way to know if ...metaphor about shitting one's pants and wondering where's that smell coming from?...).

I'm turning 62 years old. With emphasis on that last word. But. I have an extra skip in my step (♬appy ♪ay to-me) because I'm the first in my male ancestral line to make it to gov't-bonafide old'nuff to collect monthly social security retirement benefits.

Since so many of my memories are nostalgically-attached to music, I set a few guidelines to make composing this playlist a challenge:

One song—released during each year—which had a memorable impact on me.

First priority has been given to songs listened to repeatedly during the year of their release.
Alternatively, songs "discovered" after their release are listed in the year of their discovery.
Last resort: placing a song in the year of its release when it was memorable later (e.g. 1959).
No song for the current year (a 63-song playlist would bruise my design aesthetic).

Sixty-two songs / 62 different artists (solo-artists/samples, separate from their bands, allowed).
Describe at least one memorable personal first from each year.
Include a snippet of lyric relevant to then-me (which doesn't have to be related to the personal first).

After the playlist was finished, I created an intermediate memory tool artwork / story-line to memorize it.

List to this entire playlist (4 hours 20 minutes) on YouTube by clicking the image. Or—for those less interested in the full dose of this elderly creative philosopher's flashbacks—cherry-pick from the below titles/artists:

1959 Theme From a Summer Place, Percy Faith Orchestra - my first year alive (no memories) this was played on family's 45rpm record player (for years) to put me to sleep

. . .

1960 Alley Oop, Hollywood Argyles - my first interaction with a newspaper (referred to as the Sunday Funny's in our house) I enjoy the ones that don't require words to understand

he lived a long time ago

1961 The Lion Sleeps Tonight (Wimoweh), The Tokens - my first "I understand all the words" non-nursery rhyme song (not easy replacing the itisy bitsy spider)

in the jungle ... near the village ... hush my darling

1962 Loco-motion, Little Eva - my first car trips; car seats don't exist so I stand between the seats on 'the hump' (in the backseat) and my new-born infant sister (Nanett) is held in someone's arms

my little baby sister can do it with me

1963 Dominique, Soeur Sourire - my first awareness of foreign countries and different languages, which I learn to translate (poorly) in high-school freshman French class (ten years later)

s'en allait tout simplement (over the land, he simply went or went simply)

1964 You Really Got Me, The Kinks - my first sleepwalking nightmare (a giant clown swinging in the leafless trees behind my house like they are the jungle-gym monkey bars on the playground)

you got me so I can't sleep at night

1965 King of the Road, Roger Miller - my first trip by passenger train (sleeper-compartment Massachusetts to Iowa and back, with my mother and three-year-old sister)

third boxcar, midnight train

1966 Nowhere Man, The Beatles - my first moves; new schools, and new friends are disappearing faster than my baby teeth; new step-dad (three different schools and four different houses this year)

knows not where he's going to

1967 Windy, The Association - my first visit to a big city (Chicago, 'the windy city') this song played in heavy rotation on the radio (communal pickle barrel restaurant; dinner with step-dad's friends; their petulant child's name: Wendy)

who's reachin out to capture a moment

1968 Spooky, Classic IV - my first pet hamster, which I named Spooky [given to me, dead, on xmas eve by my parents; it's replacement was Spooky II (Spooky VI died in 1979) my parents were not intending to teach me Memento Mori, at 10]

just like a ghost, you've been a hauntin

1969 Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin), Sly & The Family Stone - [my first Mondegreen] my first crush (Janice Brailer, not her twin Janet) and I listened to this song at my first spin-the-bottle party

thank you for the party but I could never stay

1970 No Sugar Tonight/New Mother Nature, Guess Who - my first awareness that adults were incompetent hypocrites unaware they're terrible at raising children (the call's coming from inside the house)

lonely feeling, deep inside; find a corner, where I can hide

1971 Changes, David Bowie - my first after school job ($1.25 hr) and my first overt disregard for adults

So I turned myself to face me (turn and face the strange) ... don't wanna be a richer man

1972 Father and Son, Cat Stevens - my first artworks are created (stones glued and painted to look like people)

you're still young (that's your fault) ... I am old, but I'm happy ... think a lot ... your dreams may not

1973 Jenny, Chicago - my first verbal and physical abuse / assault (beat-up by my summer-job manager)

sad but true, z' always someone waiting just ta shit on you

1974 Seagull, Bad Company - my first rejection (of many) from girls I ask to "go out with me"

fly all around 'til somebody shoots you down

1975 Letting Go, Paul McCartney/Wings - my first kiss after a date (in my parent's car, in her driveway)

ahh, she tastes like wine, she's human bein so devine

1976 Livin Thing, Electric Light Orchestra - my first sexual encounter (oral, in a rented canoe)

sailin away on the crest of a wave ... slippin an slidin (it's a givin thing) floating downstream

1977 Never Going Back Again, Fleetwood Mac - my first serious alcohol poisoning (two-day hangover)

been down one time, been down two time

1978 Peg, Steely Dan - my first discovery of what became a life-long passion (double-feature art films)

it will all come back to you; it's your favorite foreign movie

1979 Pop Muzik, M - my first cat (white with spots of caramel-orange, named Popcorn, nicknamed him 'Pop') and my first college law class (based on my awareness that I probably won't be able to feed myself with an art degree)

wanna be a gun slinger, don't be a rock singer, eanie meany miny mo

1980 Emotional Rescue, Rolling Stones - my first art gallery show (UW-Milwaukee student show)

promises were never made to keep

1981 ABACAB, Genesis - my first co-habitation, first marriage (immediately followed by my first pregnancy)

think I'm to blame? (you want it - you got it) or reflection of someone else's name

1982 Shock the Monkey, Peter Gabriel - my first child is born (my son, Bram, was such a beautiful purple)

there is one thing you must be sure of, I can't take any more

1983 True, Spandau Ballet - my first overseas assignment (18 months in Korea)

always in time, but never in line for dreams

1984 Hold Me Now, Thompson Twins - my first breakup (and first failed marriage counseling and first amicable divorce)

look at our life now, we're tattered and torn; we fuss and we fight and delight in the tears

1985 Something About You, Level 42 - my first illicit affair (fraternizing with a junior soldier was forbidden)

making mistakes is a part of life's imperfections ... is it so wrong to be human

1986 Holding Back the Years, Simply Red - my first adrenaline fueled chase, while driving a military police sedan (eventually caught the stolen TransAm after 35+ miles; driver ran into a Georgia forest swamp and got away)

I'll keep holdin on, I'll keep holdin on

1987 Rhythm of Love, Yes - my first assignment as an undercover investigator (black-market and drug suppression team) and my initial advanced-training application was rejected (for Apprentice CID Agent school)

innocence no answer ... in this situation: I have found you in

1988 Orange Crush, REM - my first physical signs of mental stress/anxiety (back muscle seizure / heart palpitations / arrhythmia / incapacitating migraine / one mini-stroke)

I've had my fun and now it's time to serve your conscience overseas

1989 She Drives Me Crazy, Fine Young Cannibals - my first calculated insubordination (my letter to the MG) and my subsequent first opportunity to witness a miracle (BFR)

waitin round's killin me (runnin out of time) things go wrong, they always do

1990 The Power, SNAP! - my first foam-art sculpture (fade to black) and my first art commission

sgettin'sgettin'sgettin'sgettin kinda hectic

1991 Crazy, Seal - my first too-odd-for-words investigation (false rape allegation which hinged on a coincidence)

but we're never gonna survive unless we get a little ... crazy

1992 Walking on Broken Glass, Annie Lennox - my first assignments travelling* throughout Europe as a protective service agent (bodyguard for NATO commander in 20+ countries)

know that I might bleed ... nothing left to fear ... doing really well my dear

1993 Cose Della Vita, Eros Ramazzotti (Italian: the matters of life) - my first recognition of favorite cities and places to visit (Musée d'Orsay in Paris; as well as Florence, Venice, Siena, Naples and smaller cities throughout Italy)

all the memories we’ve had ... I want to remember, I can never forget

1994 Your Ghost, Kirsten Hersh/Michael Stipe - my first offensive driving course (Nürburgring, DE)

i-think-last-night-you were driving circles around me

1995 Carnival, Natalie Merchant - my first career self-sabotage [Although I hated being a protective service agent (labelled* babysitting grown-ass adults by a co-worker) I loved the travel; I decide to return to criminal investigation supervision]

have I been blind-have I been lost-inside myself and my own mind

1996 Real World, Matchbox 20 - my first assignment as a unit commander (Special Agent in Charge)

well I'd shout out ... boy don't make me wanna change my - tone

1997 A Long December, Counting Crows - my first scuba diving (open water PADI certification, obtained during a winter vacation in Negril, Jamaica)

it's been so long since I've seen the ocean - guess I should

1998 One Week, Barenaked Ladies - my first awareness of the term Asperger's (although I realized how much it fit me, it would be many years before I admitted it to myself and still more before I talked about it openly)

I have a tendency to wear my mind on my sleeve

1999 Praise You, Fatboy Slim - my first significant family (genetic?) poor-health confirmations (my father, Leverett, dies at age 60 and my maternal grandmother is diagnosed with Alzheimer's at age 80)

we've come a long, long way together; through the hard times, and the good

2000 Dreaming, BT/Kirsty Hawkshaw - my first success at lucid dreaming accompanied my first long-form-scribble pen/ink drawing (full drawing)

walk with me, the future's at hand ... one taste is never enough

2001 Breathe, Télépopmusik/Angela McCluskey - my first danger-pay deployment "NATO peace keeping" assignment (7 days-a-week for seven months; Ops Officer Kosovo/Macedonia)

another day ... I'm used to it by now, I'm used to it by now

2002 No Children, The Mountain Goats - my first contested divorce (and my first military pension check)

I hope I lie: and tell everyone you were a good wife

2003 Brimful of Asha, Cornershop (Norman Cook Remix) - my first online dating foray (U-date) eventually results in a successful partnership (eighteen years later and there aren't sufficient words of praise)

she's the one that keeps the dream alive, from the morning past the evening to the end of the light

2004 Float On, Modest Mouse - my first serious car accident (SUV flipped end-over-end, at highway speed, during a massive Arizona hail storm) which became my first blog post on s n a p p e r h e a d (my first blog)

bad news comes, don't-you-worry, even when it - lands

2005 Feel Good Inc, Gorillaz - my first digitally rendered artwork (sarah in the pity - based on, and derived from, my significant other who consistently seems to be incessantly imbued with unforeseen unplanned serendipitous events)

got a new horizon, it's ephemeral style

2006 Crazy, Gnarls Barkley - my first visit to Manitoba, Yellowstone, Glacier and Grand Tetons (grizzly bears, elk, owl, red fox, bison, black bears, bald eagle, moose, wolf)

having the time of your life ... no coincidence I've come (I can die when I'm done)

2007 Kashmir, Led Zeppelin - my first "I would have paid $1000 for a ticket" event (London benefit concert with John Bonham's son, Jason, on drums) because Zep is the only band I regret not seeing when I had the chance

traveler of both time and space to be where I have been ... across the sea of years

2008 Handlebars, Flobots - my first recognition of the world-impacting importance of a US presidential election (Obama-Biden vs McCain-Palin—after the Bush wars—who was president, now, had significance)

the strings that control the system ... end the planet in a holocaust

2009 I Remember, deadmau5 and Kaskade - my first santacon (the dichotomy of making fresh memories while drenching brain cells in alcohol . . . I will always remember the four rules of santa rampage!)

feeling the past moving in ... hold to the time that you know ... add to the memory you keep

2010 Cantaloop (Flip Fantasia), Us3 - my first time to play disc golf at a professional course (Horning's Hideout)

drip-trip, flip fantasia ... you move your feet (biddy biddy bop)

2011 Pop Culture, Madeon - my first favorite mashup song (the dance video with Nathan Barnatt is priceless)

hole in the world ... time goes by, so slowly, time goes, time goes, time goes by

2012 Simple Math, Manchester Orchestra - my first philosophy readings become studies; this song (and video) best capture my brain's struggles and its failure to comprehend what it's choosing to focus on.

what if I was wrong and started trying to fix it? ... been trying to get to where we’ve always been?

2013 Mash Machine, FAROFF - my first 700+ days of continual work finally finished (beginning in 2011 I/we delivered newspapers a few hours every morning; 7 days a week, with no days off, for almost two years)

I ain't happy ... days destroys the night ... kickin your can all over the place

2014 Would You...?, Touch and Go - my first wedding/honeymoon done the right way (two bands, belly/hula/burlesque dancers, a DJ; pot-luck/open bar; two weeks: beach cabin then ocean resort then mountain resort, hot tubs & fireplaces)

Ahmm...

2015 Lone Digger, Caravan Place - my first custom-ordered-from-the-factory automobile (matte grey/black cabriolet smart with all the baby-booty-bells and mini-crackerjack-box-whistles; with 7 speakers it's a rolling stereo)

baby can you move it round the rhythm cause you know we're living in the fast lane (speed up)

2016 Human, Rag'n'Bone Man - my first donation to a presidential campaign (others failed to Feel the Bern) and my first smart car road-trip (with my cat, Cecil; 5000 miles) and first reconnoiter-vacation (to Vermont)

don't ask my opinion, don't ask me to lie (don't put the blame on me)

2017 Believer, Imagine Dragons - my first full solar eclipse experience, first extremely low spring tide, and my first volunteer "work" (in the Oregon Humane Society's cattery section)

First things first: Imma say all the words inside my head ... write down my poems for the few

2018 Hey Soul Sister, Train - my first permanent estraingement from my sister (Kim) after she revealed her covert narcissism following the death of my friend Carol (who also had Asperger's; this was Carol's favorite song)

you have a one-track mind, like me ... you see, I can be myself now finally

2019 Finally Moving, Pretty Lights (Etta James) - my first "blind move" (no: local place, friends/family or employment; two cars, two cats, Oregon-to-Vermont) and my first meeting with my two sons (Bram and Ian)

oh sometimes, I get a good feeling - yeah

2020 Bad Guy, Billie Eilish - my first intentionally rude verbal altercation with a supervisor (as a US Census Bureau clerk, I asked one why he was being a fuckin asshole, told another she was a terrible supervisor)

I do, what I want, when I'm wanting to ... so cynical ... (duh)

* I don't want this groove to ever end (by LTJ Xperience) - this 63^rd song is my first intentional lie [mandatory because Rob Gordon (quoted below from the film rather than the show) and it was rch-close to being 420! So this eerily appropriate 8 minute song-with-a-perfect-title added the correct ending emotional tone and the correct running time.] . . . oh, yea: asterisked words are spelled the correct British way (combatting with a single 't' sounds-to-my-eye like com-bate-ing; labeling—single l—also sexual, too close to labial; and travelling with one 'l'? It's just bloody jarring in'it?)

the making of a good compilation tape is a very subtle art

similar listening/watching:

sAd story origin

re-collecting 👍👎 parts 1 - 4

30-song playlist catagories

critique of 100 films

How AI-savvy are you? (a quiz)

This 21 question test (which feels much longer) is geared to make you zoom into your current eye-or-ear input—compare that with previous empirically saved data (your memories) and make a choice based on fuzzy-biased-preconceptions and supposition. Your multiple-choice answer (or you can fill in the blank if you wanna) will most-likely make you glitch.

I scored an 11. Grading on the curve, 52% is better than average. If this article is right, the best score so far is a 13 (62%). Napkin math: 13+ gets an A, 11-12 gets a B, 9-10 are C's, 7-8 are D's and 6 and below are F's.

more hypertext effluvium:

example of a program altering artwork

example of humans talking with an Amazonian God

example of a meme made by a human (me)

HEXGRID ⦇19 × 11⦈ ÷ 2 ≈ 105

One-hundred and five hexagon tiles. An aggregate of a little more than 900 images. Each hex in the grid is a separate artwork. Each artwork has been given its own title. If you wish to entertain yourself, for any imaginable reason, this is how to "pair a tile with its title":

Zoom in by clicking on the artwork; embiggen (ctrl +) your screen, if necessary.
Pick a tile that really speaks to you. One which grabs your attention like a unmasked shopper walking the wrong way down the aisle towards you, while talking on their phone about how they just got a vaccine (and you're certain they're too loud, young, thin, and healthy).
Relying on apophenia (say: ap-puf-FEE-knee-a) and your connection with my imagination—proclaim at the top of your voice (and, why not?..it's your house!) the first title that pops into your head.
That's its title. Good for you. Thanks for playing.
Gravitydamned difficult mode: search thru the below list of titles for one which comes close to what you just shouted out.
That's probably its real title. Great for you. Many-much thanks for playing along.
For must-be-certain completionists (or those with some free time, for any imaginable reason) write me at veachglines@gmail.com, or comment below with your pick(s) from my titles and your best guess for tile(s) double-letter label(s).

Label the eleven horizontal x-axis tiles (in a left-to-right zigzag) uppercase A - K.
Label the ten-or-nine vertical y-axis tiles (top-to-bottom) lowercase a - j.
Top-left corner = Aa; top-right corner = Ka; bottom-left corner = Aj; bottom-right corner = Kj.
Example: 'dog yelling in hzr ear" is tile Bf.

Or, easier-in-reverse, pick a title and find the tile which fits it best.
Here are the 105 titles:

⬢ octopus burglar ⬢ dog yelling in hzr ear ⬢ manta queen ⬢ fish on pig ⬢ disdainful moon ⬢

⬢ snail fish baby ⬢ goat boy ⬢ huge-eye slap turtle ⬢ fanny's deflated balloon ⬢ bark sadly ⬢

⬢ horse pleased anger ⬢ tiger dragon ⬢ alien kisses ⬢ ewok or baboon ⬢ Covid-mask shock ⬢

⬢ hear no big-jaw ⬢ ghouly ⬢ fang-dog-bitch ⬢ Māori-zombie ⬢ grin, tusks, whiskers ⬢

⬢ jack-o-businesslob ⬢ T-rex snake ⬢ crying elephant ⬢ pipe-smoke rude ⬢ goggles-girl ⬢

⬢ blind bully ⬢ groucho ducky ⬢ spaceghost bozo ⬢ skeletor's stuffed rabbit ⬢ klondyke bite ⬢

⬢ gumby pokey ⬢ anger ape ⬢ exploding chest ⬢ onetooth mitten ⬢ drown frog-girl ⬢ somber sun ⬢

⬢ the gimp in profile ⬢ snowhite window pain ⬢ whistling happy ⬢ worm apple ⬢ crying girl ⬢

⬢ Asian hair-flip ⬢ aye me bloody grill ⬢ coochy shot ⬢ two-face cry ⬢ laugh-giggles snear ⬢

⬢ spork eatin gremlins ⬢ snakes and ninja ⬢ glove bunnies ⬢ tiki mask ⬢ shh baghead ⬢ goblin ⬢

⬢ pelican Mr Ed ⬢ fat insane ⬢ chin thumbs-up ⬢ chicken foot hat ⬢ Miro tiger ⬢ pit hair ⬢

⬢ grass-skirt puppy ⬢ Māori mask ⬢ ring finger point ⬢ talking lion ⬢ nun stare ⬢ froggy aztec ⬢

⬢ bedazzled tongue ⬢ monkey pope ⬢ open-palm slap ⬢ ratty hair clown ⬢ black man's puppy ⬢

⬢ grimace fist-cuffs ⬢ LI porpoise ghost ⬢ masks eyes ⬢ nun brain ⬢ devil baseball ⬢ evilgrin ⬢

⬢ low lid podium ⬢ woman dream cat ⬢ dr stomach or square ⬢ glasses howling ⬢ pig slash ⬢

⬢ voor he's lookin back ⬢ face hands ⬢ shocked clown ⬢ frog vine ⬢ owl shock ⬢ nemo serious ⬢

⬢ mean flower girl ⬢ Divine princess ⬢ stuffed fanged elf ⬢ panic eats excitement ⬢ snakeye ⬢

⬢ bond angel shoulder ⬢ bogey bacall ⬢ bald shouting ⬢ seal human skull ⬢ ponytail penguin ⬢

⬢ odd woman hair ⬢ Picasso duckwoman ⬢ pointing there ⬢ silly goose lady ⬢ faceless robot ⬢

⬢ undergrate shadow ⬢ broke window facepunch ⬢ anime tiny phone ⬢ chicken veil ⬢

⬢⬢⬢⬢⬢⬢⬢⬢⬢⬢⬢⬢

like this, but simpler:

board

portrait

nudes

Gerund and Verbina [verb ending in ing, becoming a noun]

Gerund struggles finding sufficient kindling

Verbina kindles almost every stick she finds

I hate scavenging and camping says Gerund

I scavenge and camp for fun, boasts Verbina

Murdering and dismembering is outdoor fun!

Did ending-ing murder and dismember me?

Exercising his rights, Gerund remains mute

Verbina exercises a revenge plot—but it fails

Gerund tried hanging, poisoning and slicing

his wrists; succeeding, eventually, by falling

Verbina hung around a morgue, got sliced in

an autopsy and jumped into a cremation urn

more memes / poems:

burlington's signs

know it when you see it

jolly bernie

Insight Into Creativity: Art Transliteration

⚠ Warning—this aesthetic philosophy deep-dive might be too inscrutably byzantine for you.

call-back to Under-Overwhelming essay

Pretentiously vainglorious prefaces, titles, and abstruse words (like these) serve the same purpose as height-requirement signs at theme parks.

To those who’ve chosen to jump off this cliff, heedless of the challenges, I commend you for your open-mindedness, willingness to try your brain at new concepts, and your marathon-level attention span (if you make it to the end).

And to those comfortable within this ken: I thank you—up-front—for perusing the word-imagery fabrications of a philosopher-artist such as myself. Please bear-with my liberal application of monsieur em-dash, madame hyphen, and cousin parenthesis.

hover for brief description �🔗 click for magnification or link

Transliteration normally refers to slowly transcribing/translating—one character, word, symbol or hieroglyph at a time—one language into another. Because art and poetry can seem like a foreign language, I’m going to crawl around inside my own gulliver and explain how I created both the two-dimensional artwork and poem titled: woad poem. (Links are provided to add superfluous details or permit examining referenced artwork. Did I mention this is a deep dive?)

It Begins With a Mote of Detritus With Pearl-Potential: Unsurprisingly, first ideas about a new creation can be born-out-of (borrowed from) works of others, or inspired by the artist’s earlier work. When I saw this strong-contrast image of a nude—in December 2019 (while scrounging for creepy images for the collage AULDLANGSYNE's Mailbox)—I recognized it would be perfect for a future artwork and got out my butterfly net.

Architect’s Eye, Engineer’s Ingenuity and the Passion of a Serial-Killer: When my time-to-create gland woke-up from a nap, I “found” about 50 similarly-stark images and began to experiment—slicing, smoothing, spinning, and fine-tuning. After many days of failing to get even a tickle of that solving-the-puzzle feeling (I never became fully-absorbed) I stopped trying to hammer-tune this ~~crap~~ craft into something aesthetically pleasing to me.

Disappointing Creations Need Titles Too: First I stared at it, then wondered about it, and—eventually—understood what failed to happen: I’d enjoyed the process of finding “just right” image slices, but received no spark during sculpt-construction. I was enthralled by the building blocks but I disliked the structure. So, I devised a jarring meta-title: imagine a suggestively-confusing title here. (Meta because a title asking you to think of a title, is eating its own tale; and jarring because the adverb-adjective sticks in one’s word-smithery—it is not really the opposite of confusingly-suggestive which slides smoothly from eye to lizard-brain, but not-not the opposite either.)

A Realization-Reenactment (Focused on Aesthetics): While doing the aforementioned disappointed-staring and title-devising, my attention kept returning to the left-side of the artwork. What was drawing my eye? Was I merely recognizing the first found-image pearl in that section? Maybe a change in distance? Thumbnail mode caused my interest to definitely be re-piqued, but, in close-up, the miasma of interlocking/overlapping shadows, edges, silhouettes, and flimsy fragments of fifty female photo-montaged forms forced my curiosity to flee (whew). But, the leftmost portion—no matter if distant or full-screen—remained intriguing and its abstract-composites continued to tantalize.

A Literal Return to the Drawing Board: With the leftmost portion as a focal-point, I restarted the cut-stitch-paste-gluing engine. This lasted for a few daze. After becoming deeply engrossed in the process, trimming and/or deleting about fifteen of the most detailed original images, changing the color pallet on at least ten, and totally redesigning the size and focus, the resulting artwork works. For me. And that’s all a creator can use to determine finish-quality. It is appropriately asymmetrical, contains both blurred and crisp details, and the rest is mere suggestion, hint, and supposition. Pleasing to the eye. Maybe a smidgen-creepy, but that adds to the allure.

The More Difficult the Self-Challenges the Less Challenging the Self-Difficulties: Sounds like an aphorism, but challenging myself is a successful way to keep creating. My art keeps me learning. I decided to craft a poem to accompany this artwork, incorporating a phrase I coined in a letter:

...The little things are the big things. The big things might be able to take care of themselves, but ‘death by a million tiny cuts’—as metaphor—has an antithesis ‘bliss by a million tiny kisses’...

Critics Refer to This Next Part as a Pointless Tangent; I Prefer to Call it a Brief Aside: I think it helps to think about a few claims made by Nietzsche in his 1872 work, The Birth of Tragedy from the Spirit of Music:

...the existence of mankind only appears to be justifiable when it is viewed as an aesthetic phenomenon...
...the highest form of artistic creation depends on some form of tension between opposing forces...

Nietzsche's book is a dense, complexly-expansive, review of classical Greek dramatic theater and music. Fourteen years later, in 1886, it was republished as The Birth of Tragedy, or: Hellenism and Pessimism with a second preface—written by Nietzsche himself—titled An Attempt at Self-Criticism. (The first preface, in both, was written by the composer Richard Wagner . . . yes that Wagner, of antisemitism infamy.)

I found this excerpt from his self-criticism poignant, not only because he describes yours-truly, but he appears to be describing (with sarcastic self-deprecation) his “target audience”:

...artists with analytical tendencies with a capacity for retrospection (the type whom it’s always necessary to seek-out but with-whom one never wants to seek) who are also full of psychological innovations and artist’s-secrets...

The Nuts and Brain-Bolts Leading Up to My Two Dimensional Artwork waod poem: My artwork descriptions, above, are definitely synopsis after-the-act. I was not thinking about how my mind was working as it was creating. (I understand some with less high-functioning autism are hampered by meta-meta thoughts-about-thoughts and—unfortunately—get bogged down, can't climb out of their own way, and suffer because of it.) In looking back, I recall that my odd-intuitive-creative neurons (my only nod to NEFND in this essay) encouraged my imagination, which influenced me to begin with the strong-contrast nude I caught in my butterfly net, which—in-turn—eventually led me to craft the final “found image” collage-compilation from dozens of (fair-use-borrowed or copyright-stolen*) erotic images.

I cropped the blackspace, mirror-flipped it, imagined the word poem reversed-upsidedown would approximate the word waod. [Climbing deeper: Actually, my thoughts snag-focused on the ash diphthong in the word aesthetic and, subsequently, I zoomed in on the visual near-symmetricality of m-w and p-d...which came very near (rch-close) to a voila moment...and a title was born.] Then I added the words, as title, at the mirror point and extended a small amount of white-grey to the left-edge's mirror point (literally a point) because I wanted to “break the rectangle rule” just a tiny bit.

The Bizarre Gears-and-Gristle-Soup Beneath the Circuitry of the Poem: With this, I had a tall, thin, abstract image, which I could place vertically—adjacent to my as-yet-unwritten poem. I also had a title. And, I had the phrase: bliss by a billion tiny kisses. That was ~~all~~ enough. Because, by focusing on what I possessed, I discovered my theme.

My life is not unlike many other people’s lives: I have my share of missed opportunities and lost connections. So, I would write a poem about tying together all the disconnected plot points. Years ago, I wrote a short story about dénouement (where I only explained “what the characters were doing” in the final paragraphs). So I began with:

rarely are there anymore breathtaking dénouements in this place outside of

This place? . .the world . . . the Internet . . . this blog . . . or . . .

Intentionally ending in a dangling preposition (a broken grammar rule) causes the reader to assume the next line will complete the phrase (even though there is a large paragraph-break space between lines) and the brain is already filling in the gap: ...outside of Hollywood blockbusters? ...outside of novels? ...outside of where! And, I begin the next line without explaining. The first line of the poem is an example of a hanging plot point, with a link to a relatively long story about dénouement (but one would need to know the definition to appreciate any of this). Second line also ends in a preposition, but the phrase is completed in the third line.

yet as I crafted an important series of sentences for my son I stumbled on

bliss by a billion tiny kisses (the antithesis of death’s trillion tiny cuts)

Since I linked a word in the first line, I chose to do it again. My second link was to the definition of idiom, which stumbled on and coin a phrase, are examples of. My third line breaks the pattern (does not end in a word which normally begins a phrase) and, instead of linking to the definition of a word, links to the description of a ancient torture technique called Lingchi, which I point out is the opposite of my bliss by a billion tiny kisses.

My forth line, however, does end in a preposition, and I continue the pattern by describing two more different types of cutting (the first medical the second figurative).

barely realized unless our split-brained attention is riven; focus forced into

The fifth line continues the phrase begun at the end of the forth (with no links) but contains a line derived from my previous essay pertaining to underwhelming and overwhelming events: in that essay I posit that momentous events aid in the formation of long-term memories (which is also connected to this deep dive's first image). More important to this poem, in this line, I begin with a statement and turn it into a question which suggests we all fail to take notice when we happen to do something for the first time in our lives (like thinking about how this poem was word-smithed).

novel-for-you non-momentous events; happening right now, or isn’t this a first for

I end the fifth line with a preposition but complete the phrase in the sixth line (which wasn't my only use of alliteration; another example: series of sentences for my son I stumbled) with a question about the composition of the poem itself. I then begin another sentence which relies on the reader understanding the unwritten connection of what the pronoun it is referring to (which is: the poem itself):

encouragement and compliance of contemplation of this composition? Today it’s

In the seventh line I continue the sentence with the idea that when I posted the poem it would be at the top of my blog (metaphorically the capstone) which is a series of stories one-atop-the-previous (like a totem pole)—two different metaphors in one, referred to mixing metaphors, which is also a grammatical no-no. And I provide a link to who was president when I began the blog in 2004:

s n a p p e r h e a d ’s totem pole capstone, which was begun in forty-three’s day

The eighth line begins a new sentence, which jars the brain slightly, because line seven did not end in a period and this line did not begin with a capital letter (the intent is to force readers to engage level 2 thinking and read slower).

tomorrow waod poem’s intricate reflection collage silhouettes will be unburied

The ninth line proposes a distant-future presidency when people (myself, hopefully, included) will re-read this poem and wonder at the poet’s prescience (2028 or 2032).

while conducting future memory mining exercises during AOC’s presidency

The tenth and eleventh lines, are thematically connected to previous ones (time-frames related to US presidential administrations), which might-be building toward a plot? Maybe, possibly? [Obviously this was written before-during Trump’s first impeachment, otherwise it would have been plural (impeachments).]

which requires every one of us to live thru overwhelming/underwhelming

events during The Buffoon’s impeachment and then place their recall

The twelfth line alludes to the similarity between our human ability to recall memories and the Internet’s ability to recall items (like this poem) using keywords. This line, again, ends in a preposition.

codes in squire where they may get dusty but never so unused as to

While the thirteenth line (and the fifteenth line) completes the prepositional phrase begun in the twelfth line (and the fourteenth line), the fourteenth line breaks that pattern by beginning with a preposition–both showing and telling the reader: one way to point out one’s awareness of man-made grammar rules is to intentionally bend them. And, then, suggests a related idea: that morals are also man made.

draw attention to bending the ground rules while recognizing they exist

for the sole purpose of being broken — morality may be completely inside of

After the dash in the middle of the fourteenth line, a statement begins (about where morality might be found), which then becomes the beginning of a question in the fifteenth line (about the woad poem artwork’s sexual imagery . . . considered immoral by puritans), there, the poem intentionally causes a mental hiccup. The reader sees the question: would the artwork, but “hears” would the art work (as in: would the art succeed if it were less delicately prurient?) My aim was to ask: would it accomplish the task of catching-and-holding the attention of viewers if my art was more blatant—and I provide a link to a NSFW example, for those who might be in need of what I mean by blatant. Which is answered by the poet-artist-myself at the end of the sixteenth line.

creative words generated by millions of imaginations but would this artwork if

less delicately prurient or without its attention catch-hold — I suggest it would not

The seventeenth/final line is a call-back-bookend bringing the poem to a close by returning the POV back to first-person (begun in the second line). It also intentionally causes another mental hiccup wherein the reader is "tricked" when assuming the end of the sixteenth line completed the rhetorical question (it posed to itself) and, then, realizing the answer has continued (into a different/unasked question). And that answer explains that this poem, this art, is only important now to those who read it or look at it. Which is my closing to say: thank you, to you, when you view.

The art and the poem were—like every creation of all creators—immensely important to me, at-the-time, when I was creating them. But, then my brain moved on. To the next idea, the next instinct-driven concept, and it (my brain) uses the ideas that got stuck-plastered in place from the creating-sculpture-thoughts to inform my next thing.

be valued any less by me, its creator, who considers every view, by you, a tiny kiss

* Subject for another day’s essay. “Most-people” are unable to be objective and always bring their personal agenda to a fair-use versus copyright debate. I always try to give credit to creative people, even when all they do is screech “mine.mine.mine.” (But I realize I do not have to pay my landlord with the proceeds of my creativity.) I disdain people ~~artists~~ like Lars Ulrich and champion creatives like Aaron Swartz. Which indicates where my personal agenda lies, and that I'm aware of my place in the phalanx of “most-people”.

odder pins and flypaper ideas:

twilight zone artwork de-construction

where philosophy fodder comes and goes

final word: ...you know the rules and so do I...

GREYESCAPEXTRAIL

glint ⸱ tight ⸱ diaphragm

squint ⸱ bite ⸱ tinker's damn

⸱ there's almost no escaping ⸱

int ⸱ shite ⸱ good-goddamn

stint ⸱ blight ⸱ strife's a sham

⸱ where goest your agapē? ⸱

"skint" trite ⸱ faux victim

hint ⸱ spiteful dictum

⸱ ere prose an eyesore cliché ⸱

mince ⸱ fight ⸱ wham-n-scram

rinse ⸱ unite ⸱ worse plan

⸱ stare frozen-core aperture ⸱

slightly similar b&w art:

gameboard

memory tool

woad poem

HEX - GON

‶They were just talking about the phrase: taking one's own council, so I told them all about that hex-gon concept. I mentioned it to you—kinda briefly—last time, right?″

‶YahBut...Remind me...Is that hex gone, like in: 'we payed Witch Hulda to make her hex gone potion' or hexagon, as in: 'Gamey Greta moved her trivial pursuit token into the middle hexagon'?″

‶Both. Neither. I must not've splaind it goodnuf. Six letters: H E X space G O N. Supposed to bring to mind both Witch Hulda's potion and Gamey Greta's final question.″

‶AaahOk...I remember there were six scales, but I don't remember the traits on em...Oh and...each of the six were scored from one to six...Umm, I'm wrong...They were scored A B C D E F and, depending on what letters you picked, you got a different result...reminded me of the Myers Briggs.″

‶The first trait is your benevolence - avarice scale. What would your letter be? You're making a face. Izit cauzeya need help with a few examples? Or—like Nancy Normal—you don't wanna gointa any details today?″

‶Passive aggressive much?″

‶I'm sorry I said like Nancy Normal. I shouldn't have been so pushy.″

‶IzzFine...I don't mind...But, I guess I could use help defining avarice and benevolence...and, maybe, sketch it out so I can remember this time.″

‶Here, I can use this napkin for a visual aid. On this side is A to F from benevolence to avarice. Benevolence is similar to being kind and charitable; while avarice is always seeking to profit, but in a mean way.

You pick A if you've been—as an adult—benevolent to-a-fault; and F if you've been avaricious to-a-fault. Pick B if you've tried to be benevolent when possible; pick E if you've tried to be avaricious when possible. Or you pick C if you've more-often-than-not been benevolent; and D if you've more-often-than-not been avaricious.″

‶LemmeGeddisStraight...if default mode is either: way too much, mostly attempted, or occurred slightly more than half of the time...you're saying it's possible for a person to be too benevolent?..And...are you saying this isn't for children?″

‶Yes. To both questions. I don't know if this would be a valuable tool for insane sociopaths. And children are all insane sociopaths. An adult who is aware they routinely assist or attempts to help others, without any thought for their own welfare, could consider themself to be an 'A' on this first scale.

Which leads us to the second trait: your candor - guile scale. Candor is kinda like speaking honestly and being plainspoken; while guile is kinda like speaking with duplicity in a sly or cunning manner.″

‶OhIsee...with too much candor, people's feelings can get hurt by your blunt words; and too much guile people might suspect they're being lied to or deceived...neither's a way to win friends and influence enemies!″

‶Right. Third trait: your amity - enmity scale. Amity is behaving peacefully and harmoniously; and enmity is hostile, antagonistic behavior.″

‶Wow...I sure can't imagine anyone labeling themselves hostile-to-a-fault...But I know a few who seem to always be sullen or angry or they're tryin to pick a fight...Seems this scale would be better if it were scored by someone who could be objective...I think people will just lie about themselves.″

‶Although we're goin thru this together, Vernon, mostly this'd be done alone—like the Myers-Briggs. This is a tool for introspection. So people can evaluate their own character traits. Identify which parts of themselves they need to learn to accept or work on changing (incredibly rare).

Which brings us to your fourth trait: the integrity - nefarious scale. Integrity is comparable to one's adherence to ethical or honorable behavior; nefarious is comparable to one's flagrantly horrible or corrupt behavior.″

‶Whaa...you just mumble?..somethin like they'd either learn to accept themself or they'd work on fixing their...cranky hair.″

‶What I mumbled, Mister Cranky Hair, was incredibly rare. Most people don't take intelligence tests to finally put a number on their below-averageness, then start crackin books, and then go back and measure their improvement. Not sayin it never happens; just that it's rare.

When you took the Myers-Briggs, did you find out you were judgemental and decide you wanted to be more perceptive?″

‶Um...you think I'm judgemental and not very perceptive?″

‶The Myers-Briggs doesn't say that or work that way, but—now that I hear you say it out loud—I did sound that way. I apologize. My guess would be: you determined that you were either an ESFJ or an ENFJ. But that can change over time. Depends on how long ago you took it.″

‶Ohyup...ESFJ...the way I remembered it was entertainment-sports-foot-joy. What would be yours?..Not extravert...so your first letter is I for intravert. What's the S or N stand for?..I forget.″

‶Sensing or Intuition. When I first took it, I was an INTJ; the way I recall that is: intelligent-jerk. But, most recently, I was INTP, so—intelligent-prick?″

‶Haaa...So...this one's got six letters instead of four...you should name it...cuz...someone could be, like, an ABACAB...I'm pretty sure that there's a hole in there somewhere.″

‶Did you just quote a forty year old song, Vernon? Wouldn't have thought you were old enough to be a Genesis fan! But, now you've got me wondering: what would someone with an ABACAB on their Agenda Scale be like? That's its name; the first letter of each of the traits—on the E-F-G end of the scale—spell out the word agenda. It's a reference to our hidden agendas or having a personal agenda.″

‶Isee...So ABACAB would be too overly giving...mostly speaks plain...comes off as obnoxiously friendly...is slightly more honest than dishonest...and that brings us up to...″

‶The pragmatism - dogma scale is the fifth one. Pragmatists think about practical applications and make decisions based on day-to-day thoughts, actions, and truths; adherents of dogma are very by-the-book, they don't question that book, and tend to scorn those that do question it.

ABACAB is a gender neutral person who understands their overly pragmatic attitude towards everything, at all times, with everyone around them, tends to get them in more trouble than it avoids. They're aware the term can't get out of their own way applies to them, and scores themself an 'A': too-pragmatic.″

‶Okthen...And the last on the Agenda Scale?″

‶The sixth trait is the certainty - ambivalence scale. Those who are certain possess a strength in their decisions or hold firm to their convictions; and those who are ambivalent are of-mixed-emotions, tend toward indecisiveness, and are aware of their dichotomous cognitive dissonance.

ABACAB is mostly certain most of the time. And that's the all of it.″

‶Allrightythen...I'ma take this napkin...Cuz I'm mostly certain that my agenda isn't at all like they/them...ABACAB's that is...I need to think about it...all though...pretty sure I don't have any A's or F's...Ha!..Just thought of another good one: an AC DC CD is a middle of the road dude who's only major fault is he keeps doing dirty deeds dirt cheap.″

‶Gotta hand it to ya there Vernon. That's spot on fast thinkin, hilarious, and a song from the 1970s. You sure you're not fifty years old? All I ask is, please, keep me updated with new letter combinations which you might come up with, ok?″

‶Noprob...Thanks for this...the Agenda Scale...It's gonna give me shit to think about for days.″

related in some manner: