Monday, April 25, 2011

Painting Yourself Every Day

after a strange emotional day, painting at Brioni's always sorts things out


   The New Primgraph Magazine was stuffed in the door of the Hypnotic Shoppe, and I ran to it, threw it onto the desk by the door and flipped to the Hypnotic Shoppe ad. There it was! Stark and mysterious as I had drawn up. I clicked it, to receive the notecard that tells all about the enigmatic advertisement, and nothing happened. No Landmark, no notecard, nothing!
   A full page ad, THOUSANDS of lindens, and it is as good as pointless! The ad cost more than I made in a month at the shoppe, and I knew any moment the creditors would be at the door!
   In Caledon, creditors can not imprison anyone for debt, but does this apply to clockwork persons? They would not need to send me to a jail, just dial up the local junkyard! Can I be "repossessed"?
   Images flashed-of car smashing machines pressing on me, dipping me in bronze and sitting me in some park somewhere, or the New Babbage Smelting and Steel Factory, and the last bath I would ever have,,,
   I found myself sitting at Brioni's, paintbrush in hand. Since becoming sentient i have enjoyed the warm Southend air and sun, painting outside at Brioni's cafe- it is most calming! I tried painting the image of my Typist, hoping she would plea my case to the Great Doll Maker,  shakily throwing color on canvas in huge globs.
   My thoracic cog package developed a strange palpitation in the main pump, flutters in those valves, raised temperature and pressure, slight confusion, and a strange pain in the chest,, is this,, emotion? what a very unpleasant feeling!
   I noted also in this "Clockwork" issue, in the pictures of the Clockwork ball, I was missing, in the article for clockwork and doll shoppes of the Steamlands, I was missing, in the clockwork Who's Who article, same. At first I thought perhaps it was because they saw the real me so well, they no longer even saw my key, heard the ticking. But what if it was something else?  Ohh, the pressure rose more, my mouth and skin got terribly dry. My hand shook as I tried to emulate Van Gogh's brush stroke method.
   Then,
   A courier walked up with a huge bouquet of Flowers! In it was a letter, from one of my students at the University- Boog75.
   "Saw this and thought of you- Thank you for the class."
   I held the stool with both hands as my body shook and my eyes leaked hot water in torrents. I laughed and hugged my flowers, which had a powerfully sweet fragrance.
   I finished the painting, capped my oils and sat for a long time, trying to get all my brain cogs to spin at the same speed. I realized I was painting myself. We are all painting ourselves, every day. And some people see some meanings and images in your art, and others see other sides. I needed to keep painting me, because where some people may see an indebted metal automaton fit for the scrapyard, others saw a smart and giving professor, that cared for them, and they cared back. And sent flowers.

Wearing the DCNY swing coat, fashionable for Spring

2 comments:

  1. You have my sympathies. I have just read the aether edition of the latest Primgraph and there is indeed a working link on your advertisment. As for the other, a most unfortunate omission on the Primgraph's part. Not the first, though. As I recall, in an issue on Air-Pirates they left off any mention of one of the, in my opinion, premier puerveyors of fashions in that theme, BlakOpal Designs. Perhaps, my dear Miss Charisma, you are merely a victim of your own success. In your efforts to be accepted among the organics you have achieved the point where you are no longer immediately recognized as a clockwork person. Also, judging from the selection of fashions, your appearance may in fact be too conventional to attract their attention. Furthermore, given your natural and very doll-like reluctance to "toot your own horn" you may simply have slipped under their collective awareness.

    Rest assured, my dear, you are neither forgotten nor unappreciated by those of us fortunate enough to know you.

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  2. *Clicks eyes brightly*
    Thank you! Oh but now the heaviness in my chest is not for me but for Blakopal, who i consider a friend, if not a kindred soul. One would not be surprised to find, due to her deep empathy and understanding of our kind, that she may in fact be a hybrid person or sentient clockwork. Her fashions are quite flamboyant and functional, i do hope she is not mixed up with pirate ruffians!

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