I sat down in the garden. After Caytee left for work I went and bought myself some slap chips and a coke and I was nursing my depression quite delightfully when I noticed the hadeda.
I don’t know why but I explained everything to him about the workshop and what Caytee said. And then he turned his head sideways as if he didn’t believe me.
“Now, don’t get me wrong. Of what I told you you might get the idea that I am a delusional artist who cannot keep his feet on the ground long enough to realise there ain’t much going for him.”
I took a sip of coke.
“You might think this but my feet are very firmly on the ground. I know because I have checked. It was quite an experiment, trying to make sure that my feet were completely and utterly on the ground.”
Just a side note to say that my experiment did last three months but I did manage to produce a number of quite delicate watercolour sketches in this time. These were of course reworked as I will tell you right now.
I eyed that hadeda straight.
“And as to my head in the clouds, walk outside on a misty morning and where the bloody hell is your head, hey? I thought so.”
But come to think of it now. Hadedas can flight up into the air. It would therefore be much easier for them to get their heads into the clouds much more frequently. Just saying.
“Okay, established that. My feet is on the ground and my head is in the clouds like everybody else’s.”
I took a deep breath so that I can get a dramatic pause. I felt I had to convince that stupid bird.
“Here’s the deal. I can see reality.”
Most people laugh right here. Not the normal way people laugh but he way they laugh at exceptional ideas. What they do is this, they say: “this is interesting.” And then they nod their head slowly and back out the door, hoping that you would not contaminate them with some real original thoughts. And that’s what I told the bird.
“No, seriously. It is not me who is deluded. It is everybody else who buys in to fascist and capitalist system that says that you have to conduct your endeavors towards either social or economic improvement.”
I sat back and stared up at the light blue sky. It was late spring. Not cold yet. A good time of the year. The greens just starting to fade. I ate some more chips. Then I noticed the hadeda was still there.
Waiting for me to continue?
“Not me. My artwork is directed towards only one thing. The unfettered creative expression of my inner soul — What else is there?”
The chips was finished and I still felt a bit empty.
“At least I am not a fat old lady painting arum lilies in blue pots and undulating landscapes echoing the bums of green pigs. What swill!”
I bunched up the chips paper and chucked it at the bin. I missed.
Now, the thing is, to express my unfettered creative self is not so easy. It takes quite an amount of effort. And believe me, there has been a number of false starts.
I’m not sure if I said that alive. I might have, but then I am now not even sure I said anything aloud. The next piece I did because I knew the hadeda was not convinced yet and I so wanted to convince somebody.
“Fortunately I am also a devout and dedicated self-appropriation re-cyclist. I have managed for many years to rework my work into new work, developing deeper and more impactful expressions of my…?”
Of course the bird didn’t have an answer.
“…Unfettered creative self, right. This is where Caytee has it wrong. It is not that I cannot see the economic value of my artwork. Greatness have always demanded a price. It is valuable beyond even what I can reckon and certainly, some people do calculate that value in terms of financial investment.”
I took out my wallet to see if I might have enough money to get some more chips. I didn’t.
“I could be doing brilliantly I know, but there is a problem. If I do sell my work of then I am removing vital pieces of myself from the picture. To talk of pieces is in itself quite wrong.”
I looked at the hadeda. He was picking at the ground again. Eating I don’t know what. Bugs? Wouldn’t it be great if we did not have to buy food ourselves? If we could graze like animals. I almost told him that, good thing I didn’t.
“I do not have separate pieces. I have one complete body of work, all connected with cross references and sub text and intra-delightful accidents of conjunctions and…and…I can’t get that word right now but this is the point. It works together and I cannot sell of pieces of it. It would be like cutting of my toes and selling them one by one.”
That seemed to get his attention.
“But I only have ten toes and what when I’m done. I won’t be able to walk and…” the right image suddenly dawned on me, “Thats it! If I sell my work I am turning myself into a creative cripple.”
I felt better. Even if all I’ve done is tell my troubles to a stupid bird.
“Covered. Done. There is no way I can start selling of my work.”
The elation lasted for only a moment. I still had to do something. Something that will both fool Caytee and buy me some time. Now I was thinking out loud.
“If I go to this stupid workshop thing then she’ll leave me alone… I know, I can come back and tell her it would take a couple of months to implement all the ideas and then she would leave me alone and I can get on again… Easy, solved – no problem.”
The hadeda stopped pecking at the ground and walked closer to me. I had a clear sense that he did not like what I’ve been saying.
He stopped right in front of me.
“What do you want from me you stupid bird?”
The hadeda opened his wings and shook himself. And then he spoke to me.
“First of all sonny, I’m not a he, I’m a she.”
You could have smeared me on toast.
“And secondly, you are thinking like a lame duck. Pull your head out of your cloaca (that means bird anus) and get a grip.”
I did not have much to say after that but she talked for a good while more.
Disclaimer: Above post is fiction and published here for entertainment purposes only.
{ 0 comments }
