Vintage Sherry: Art-iculation

If words are ART, I have failed miserably in the verbal category. My tied-tongue coagulates my words together until they are gum stuck to the sole of my shoe. These words don’t even have the fluid-jilted meaning of a Jackson Pollock painting [They are not messy to the point where the meaning eventually seeps out.] My words are not even a Monet, where jumbled speech fall into place. Neither are the words a Van Gogh, bold and almost crude but pervasive and coherent. Instead, the best ART my words have become are crayon scribbles scratched out of the lines—not because they are a bold trend, but simply because they don’t know where to go. The artist with a Crayola canvas of uneven color mixtures.


Written: 1/24/01 (edited: 2/15/10)