Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Narcissus-X Regards a Digital Divide

Narcissus-X is accustomed to darkness, to abyssal expanses of Stygian seas beneath an obsidian sky.

Why, then, should Narcissus-X hold back? What trepidation could Narcissus-X feel? Is not experience felt by the artist, Art? Are not sensations and visions grist for the mill of the artist's mind?

Narcissus-X has danced among the toadstools of forgotten kings, glided on dark crystals across a sunless sea, beheld the Grotto of Velvet Coal.

Pythons' nest linking metal prisms, phosphorescent plane, console awaiting commands, eldritch unliving servant, too long has Narcissus-X neglected this portal to the digital abyss.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Narcissus-X Seeks Solace in Silent Shade

Narcissus-X seeks solace in silent shade. The Grotto of Velvet Coal beckons. Narcissus-X is Artist! With Narcissus-X is the heart of Art!

Harlequin harbinger of harsh humor! Motley fool! As if assemblages of antagonistic colors attain the name "art."

Brilliant dullard! Gullible grant grantors! Dazzled by shimmer and sheen and glittering words! Knowing nothing of Art or Artist or abyss of anthracitic, aphotic emptiness.

Why must Art be shunned? Why must Artist be betrayed?

Monday, March 8, 2010

Narcissus-X Perceives Red-Eyed Penguins

Narcissus-X rings tones of dark clarity: crystal penguins swaying in a sightless wind.

Ring, penguins, ring! Or shatter, fill the air with mocking shards to mark your demise.

Or gather.

Loon-red eyes. Red-eyed penguins ring about the artist. Ringing penguins: silent yet surrounding. Silently surrounding, sibilant syllogisms, but it takes two to tango.

Rhumba, rhumba, samba, shimmy, gyre and gimble in the wabe.

Narcissus-X rings tones of dark clarity.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Narcissus-X Rides the Dark Rainbow

Narcissus-X rides the dark rainbow past a putter's green to the club house of grim contemplation. Malachite green, course of spinach hue, adjusting the grip and bending the knees slightly, to drive and drive and drive and still seek the green: ever present and ever distant.

Ectoparasitic concepts abound, skimming above the lawns and around the trunks.

An elephant lifts its trunk, but it's any portmanteau in a storm.

Narcissus-X regards the night, rides the dark rainbow through the obsidian sky.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Narcissus-X Assails the Acheronian Citidel

Narcissus-X assails the anthracitic tower: Acheronian citadel in a bituminous plane.

Plane geometry, Euclidean ideal. Lines and circles and arcs and tangents. Dark colors on darker ground.

What does Narcissus-X seek? What seeks Narcissus-X?

For within the tower is darkness, silence, the velvet quiet of ancient nights. Nights without moon, without stars, without gleaming eyes.

The tower taken, the gate sealed from within, the stair ascended, Narcissus-X gazes beyond the unseen horizon. And sees: darkness.

Or is it gleaming eyes?

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