Wargoon Flishe Watch

including the Pome of the Day Project

Thursday, January 11, 2007

for what the days are known

thursday came upon a wheel
wednesday's midnight wasn't real
tuesday had some awful hair
monday was a wine so rare

sunday tried, but didn't make
saturday, that sort of cake
friday thought it had a friend
thursday played the game again

Tuesday, January 09, 2007

let's talk

it's dark in the night time
so bright in the day
and when i want to say something
that's all i have to say

it's cold in the winter
and warm later on
such things i have to tell you
in our conversation

i have all ten fingers
and still have all ten toes
and when i cut my fingernail
dog gone it but it grows

if i stretch up my arm
who knows what i'll reach
and telling you is easy
with my meager powers of speech

Saturday, January 06, 2007

in between and over

when i have created a big project, and just finished it, i am in a magical mind. i am talking about the time between the point at which i consider the project finished and the time i actually show it to other people. this is a magical time because i am usually so in love with the thing i have created, so amazed that it is actually done, that i am filled from top to bottom with a kind of joy. but i also have come to realize that this joy will not last.

because that thing that i have made is only in my mind. it is magic when only i know what it all is, when all that anybody else knows is that it is possibility. it has not had to make contact with the brain cells of other people, but only with my own, with the brain cells that made it come into being, and those brain cells are full of parental bias.

i love this time but i also feel the melancholy that comes from knowing that it will be a short time, unless of course i keep that thing only to myself, and never show it to any others.

a couple weeks ago i showed my finished Wargoon Flishe film to a small group of friends. this is the point where that magical time ended, that the film went from my own to something else. the magic had ended and the reviews were mixed. some people thought it was great, some people thought it wasn't. some people thought it could use more work.

i initially rejected the idea that my child needed more work. it was my child, and i did not make it for a fee, and i made it for no company, i made it only to be my own. it did not need to change, changing it now would be a serious breach of my own vision. so i told people that i would not change it. but then i changed my mind.

for the magic had passed. i no longer can look at this baby the way i did when i had first finished it, and only i knew what it was from top to toe. now all those other opinions are in my mind, and they paint my vision of it as much as my own proud parent wallet mind photos.

i did tinker with it a little this week, and i could tinker with it a little more, but the time for tinkering has really passed. i have a new project underway, and that new project should be the real object of my refinement and the benefactor of all i have learned by getting Wargoon Flishe out of my own mind and trying to stick it in some other minds.

and i am trying to set up a more public screening.

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

ten fabulous finishes

she thought there would be glamour but there was only toast instead, she thought there would be ribbons, and violets growing out of heads, she thought there would be stillness so she could wonder at the stars, she didn't know that everybody hung out at the bars.

she had a bag of groceries, and she tied it in her hair. she started on her way but she made sure she wasn't there. she took a pair of dancing steps so she could reach the height. it didn't happen yesterday, it all took place tonight.

she didn't ponder heavy things, she didn't ponder light. she didn't answer yes or no, nor even wrong nor right. she had a firm equation and she wrote it in a book. she didn't start by listening or taking just one look. she had to do some advertising, writing it on paper, and that is how she started and she ended this whole caper.