Libertinism In Justice

Profile

Come with me, if you will
to place a prayer to judgement
and cup the cornucopia inspired
the arts, the lines, the captured
in the moment.

Come and in kind with me.
The ambrosial campaign,
too the default application,
for the divine atheistically pleased
and thus pardoned.

My Arts By Theme (Some Links to Come)

Dark, Morbid, Sick T-Shirts
Drug Themed Shirts
Digital Ninja Series T-Shirts
Scenes from the Life of a Farmboy Ts

The Major Arcana, Tarot
Digital Abstract Art
Photography

Poetry/Lyrics
Short Stories
Musings and Rants

Last.fm 1
Last.fm 2
MySpace
Facebook
Solder By Numbers which I found via Make Magazine which, if you’re here, and have a pulse, should subscribe to (just a suggestion, but it changed my life… and its brother/sister Mag “Craft” will suit those who can’t quite align anodes with “Make”) Also not to be confused with the wonderful Chicago Literary Journal entitled Make but with a different web address.

StumbleUpon A
StumbleUpon B

——-
It feels like a billion years ago now and yet this wasn’t even my first pledge… This is likely where it belonged all along, and it’s aged hidden long enough once more to resurface. I know someone can still feel this one, and perhaps someone will even take it as innocently as it first came:

The Revolution of the Divine Aesthetic

_ – What are many of us but artists, and what do we do but create? We can function in the world of suits and clocks, but to do so we have to press ourselves. We suffer and strain for the art, sure, but no more than any parent does so for their child – no more than is worthwhile for what we get to experience in return. A parent does not need to force upon themselves the task of being a guardian to their children, certainly not anyone intended to raise young in the first place – we who were born knowing there was naught to do but create, simply do so. It is the most basic function of our existence… the action we revert to when there is nothing else being imposed upon our will… it is our default application. This community, RedBubble, fosters our default applications, and here we can breath or suffocate, yet whichever we choose, we know it as our gift, because, we do get that choice.

– However, for many decades now, those who live off the air which only creating visions and prose can provide have lost their footing in the regard of society. It is through no fault of our own that we have been forgotten, left to silent corners with our paints and pens and photographs, the Muses never failed us. Instead, a foundation which is intrinsic to our very existence started making a new way in the world – industry, the stuff of creation, left the deft hands of the artist and joined the crusade of the scientist and engineer. It has served those new pursuits very well, some might claim too well, but anyone who looks closely at it will see it grows weary of propelling us ever forward. Indeed, if you look around now, to the overbearing and misleading events of present day, you will see an exhaustion among the masses who utilized it as well. All the millions who gave away their colors and introspection for the strength of stainless steel and the efficiency of spreadsheets. You will see upon the face of industry as surely as on the faces of all children of the diesel decades tears falling – dire want to simply be pleased of eye, ear, or mind. The world has tired of expeditious results, and yet are at a loss as to what it even is to find the slow calm of Thoreau’s Walden pond, or the cool depths of Kandinsky blues. What the world needs, it may not know, but we do… in our very being we know exactly. The world is in dire need of us.

– As for what it is we must do, well, nothing more than what we have always done. The cure is here. It is all over this site and in our homes, and we can tincture more whenever we wish from within ourselves… So remember the following: We can no longer think of ourselves as mere corners. We cannot allow ourselves to be footnotes on the world page, nor hobbies to require special stores. We cannot happily live as portions of a whole… not if we ever hope to change the world and our place in it ~ we cannot simply place our panacea upon a wall or easel and hope for all others to wander in and accidentally become healthy again through providence. We have the cure to this grey, sad world’s condition, and we must be forcefully willing to give it. We must tailor the world, every inch, with trappings of the vision most have lost, so that none can ever ignore or forget them again.

– It is time for the next Renaissance, indeed long overdue, and it is upon us to bring it.

– After all, no one fails at their default application – for truly its function IS our success. Let it also be that which belongs to the world as well.

– And so it all began…_

—-
It took me a lot of hate to get here. Well, make that a lot of hate, sarcasm, snide remarks, hurtful comments, ire, irksome evenings, self-diluted days, deep depressions, and more than $25,000 in bills incurred during manic episodes… not to mention some really horrible poetry, mediocre art, and one kidney stone, but I made it.

SO where am I?

The long and short is that I’m basically just still here, which I am SURE is all that should be required to consider oneself a success. You can’t change the artist, I can’t rewrite (nor would I want to) lost campaigns, and I’m ready and able to trip up again should the pebble-donning-camo come cross my bumbling path. BUT, I’ve decided to flip sunny side up, because, you know, seven-ten years of jaded youth feels like a lifetime of “can’t we just kick him in the ass hard towards that sheer drop and hope he’s as heavy as he looks??” to everyone around including the twat himself.

Absinth may make the mind grow fonder, but a little hope and a teaspoon of tolerance certainly makes it a lot easier to lug around… and people are less likely to run screaming to boot. (If you can manage to alienate your internet buddies, you know you’ve got the wrong thing going.)

So hi! My name is Gordon, and I’m a recovering douche-bag. “Hi Gordon!!”

(Hey, it is a process you know… can’t expect angel wings overnight…)

But it’s nice to meet you.

I’m a penphiliac…
I know the term sounds stupid, but all it really means is I’d really rather you write me a letter…

I’m also an egomaniac…
Which means I’m insecure but will claim I’d rather you just read my work (there’s a ton so please scroll back a bit on occasion as some of the newer things are stale due my state of mind.)

You can of course also reach me here:
sleightflow@yahoo,mac,aol.com and refractedtonnations@gmail.com

but, even better, send me a letter here:

Gordon (or whatever)
7804-C Fairview Road
#179
Charlotte, NC 28226
USA

OR here:

Gordie (or whatever)
3701 Columbine Cir.
Charlotte, NC 28211
USA

Goodie. I can’t wait to get your letter!

No, but I play one on TV.