A Poetry for You (and for me)

I went to see a pretty cool show last night at Mr. Smalls with Dan Brown, and at some point, our conversation turned to what we make of life. Dan is one of those good friends who turns things around for you so that they make sense, and funny how now that they make sense, you find yourself on your feet again. I'm lucky to have such friends. In light of said conversation, Dan shared this poem with me, that I now share with you:

A BAG OF TOOLS

Isn't it strange that princes and kings,
And clowns that caper in sawdust rings,
And common folks like you and me
Are builders of Eternity.

Each is given a bag of tools,
A shapeless mass and a book of rules,
And each must make, e'er life is flown,
A stumbling block or a stepping stone.

- Unknown

A few weeks ago in mid-September, the NY Times ran an article about artists who are on the edges of the art world; some of those people we may call "outsider artists." The American Folk Art Museum opened an "emerging art" exhibit, and the first artist, Eugene Andolsek, is perhaps my favorite. I quote:

"One of the five artists being introduced, Eugene Andolsek, is 83. A former railroad employee, he lives in a senior citizens' home in Crabtree, Pa., and stopped painting two years ago because of failing eyesight. He has never shown before. He doesn't even consider his sumptuously patterned, labor-intensive colored-ink drawings to be art, and seems to disapprove of anyone who does. The thing is, the work is really good, rich and solid, but also trippy and full of little elegancies, which makes it look very now."

He's a guy who did what he did and could care less what you think. Really and truly.

Then there's the artist Josh Seybert mentioned late this summer out on Ro and Jim patio: The old janitor guy who drew armies of little girls. That's a wierd story, both the text of his 18,000 page novel, the accompanying pictures he did himself, and well... his life. He may or may not have been a real spooky nut. Decide for yourself.