Gauguin's Title / Empire Song

You're over there parading with some lover while I'm over here forging checks attempting to postpone my eviction another day. Not that you being here right now would solve any of the real issues I have to deal with, and it's not that I even am jealous or angry that destiny, (if there is such a thing) has disallowed our being together from happening, it's just that I'm poor and have no vision of how to get rich laid out infront of me. That's been the problem now hasn't it? My mentality has never been one with the financial gain in mind you see. It's always been about aiming all my efforts into self-examination and study, the big question's...who am I and what is my purpose, on this planet, in this body? I guess now I'm dealing with that last one in Gauguin's famous existential painting...'Where am I going?'

Consolidation factor : the work is becoming more individualized and personal while the enjoyment of making also rises. This is always a good thing.
Undeniable fact and hard to disgest factor : Quantifying the product into income?


This all comes at a time, pinnacled today, by a visit to Edgar Allan Poe's house, where I'm so over tired of the genuine visionary artist being downtrodden, tormented, disgraced, subjugated, ridiculed, involuntarily depraved and consequently poor because he does not carry himself in the typical normal fashion of his society, whether mentally or physically or because his talent is not received as valuable to the war effort or because it doesn't serve the immediate want of quick minded, dim-witted consumer consensus brain. That a sport's player can be afforded hundred's of million's of dollar's for slam dunking a ball filled with air or slugging a dense whizzing ball up and away four hundred feet in the distance while a secular man exhibiting articulate, rational concept's, psychologically prodding into the most constricted and also vast reaches of the human mind, suggest's that this is no time for me. On the other hand or cheek, whichever you prefer to ponder, it could be said that this is no time for me to sulk in my seat for this is a time when no man will bow down from his own efforts to help lift you up when you are twitching on the ground. The harsh reality of our time is while each man invision's himself an island and wants the best quality of living for himself, so does everyone else, and the people who most have that are the one's who I see as misguided and corrupt and basically sinister evil corporate sucker's of satan's thorny cock and balls. As the David Byrne song 'Empire' suggests, '...young artist's and writer's please heed the call, what's good for business is good for us all, for as it is in nature so it is in life, the weak among us perish, the strong alone survive.' Meaning to have both the freedom of creating your own island, along with the luxury of enjoyoing all the pina colada's one could desire while on that island, one seemingly needs to learn a little about playing the game that allows for such riches. This is the game of business. Can this possibly be pretty? (Dips right foot in. 'Oooo!..the water's fucking icey!)