MacGreg

Yesterday afternoon, I had the day off and spent a couple of hours at the contemporary art museum here in town. The latest exhibition showcases a raw, vibrant display of street art, including graffiti, photography, and a rare collection of Jean-Michel Basquiat scribbles/doodles done a year before he became famous. Just a few weeks ago, I saw Julian Schnabel's film "Basquiat" at a local theater (on original 35mm, complete with snaps and pops and blips on the screen), followed by a Q&A panel with one of Basquiat's friends and bandmates who was also the screenwriter for the film, Michael Holman. Seeing the film this time around, after watching it 21 years ago when it first came out, was just as moving for me now as it was back then. (On a side note: David Bowie played Andy Warhol in it, which was a remarkable performance. All of the actors were remarkable.) Hearing Michael Holman's tales afterwards about Basquiat and the crazy life they led brought back a cloud of memories for me. When I was in junior high/high school, I had lofty dreams of running off to New York to hang with Warhol and the Factory crowd and to immerse myself in the art scene. I knew such a lifestyle would come with a truckload of challenges, but it held a certain glamour for me, and the creativity that was being produced out there was alluring to my much-younger, naive self. I never made it to New York, and after Warhol passed in '87, there was little point in doing so. However, that itch to live a Bohemian, street-art lifestyle never left me. To some degree, I did live it, but my version wasn't glamorous or productive - just a lot of fucked-up. If nothing else, I walked away with some serious life experiences under my belt, and I met some interesting people along the way - some who didn't make it out, and some who did and are now enjoying successful lives. For me, the direction could have gone either way, but that's for another discussion. So, this art exhibit yesterday compounded the influx of memories that had already been swirling around after watching "Basquiat" again. But, beyond the Basquiat exhibit itself, there was a whole floor of the museum dedicated to thousands of photos by a New York artist named Ryan McGinley. These photos, taken when he was in his early 20s, exemplify street-art life, with raw, realistic portrayals of himself and his friends - many art students, many living on the streets - shown countless times in very stark, unflattering situations (a post-punch bloodied mouth, someone snorting coke, someone passed out, someone naked and bruised, someone with cum-splattered pants, someone spewing vomit, and so on.) This entire exhibit is stark and in-your-face, similar to Nan Goldin's photos in the mid-80s, and seeing it brought flashback reminders of so many things for me, including people and circumstances that I could relate to. The photo below, titled "Red Mirror", particularly moved me, because it embodies Ryan's sexual discovery about himself and an intimacy and energy that pokes at the heart no matter what your preference is. I can see myself in this photo. I can see friends in this photo. I can see many in this photo. Can you see yourself? In a new chapter that I'm currently working on for my story Dissonance, I mention art imitating life... or is it life imitating art? I feel that way often. Just last night, while attending an art opening for a friend of mine, I saw a man wearing the exact 1950s vintage western jacket that I'd just described in this current, unfinished chapter. I couldn't fucking believe it. The exact one. I had to go over and discuss the uncanny coincidence with him. Art imitating life... or life imitating art? The lines are blurred. The exhibit at the contemporary art museum perfectly illustrated that for me yesterday. I feel more enlightened and inspired today because of it.

I didn't mean to make you sad, my friend. But there are some somber elements here that can't be avoided. An overwhelming searing drama? I hope not too overwhelming... Maybe I need to write a chapter that's all fun and games and good times, just to balance it out. Just knowing that it touched you so deeply makes me feel good about it, Gary. Even if it made you sad... As always, I appreciate you reading and sharing your thoughts. It means a lot. Cheers - Mac

Travis has learned to put up a front and hide his emotions. The letter to his dad was honest, from the heart. Even though he's a rural boy, Travis is pretty smart. College, running the ranch, etc. And you're right, he cares deeply for Katy. There's just been a world of hurt between them that must heal over time. I love that you love Derry! That makes me smile. Thanks for your great insights, Lisa. Cheers - Mac

Hey Def. Well, your questions are valid. Obviously, I can't answer them at this point, but the hope is that Ben and Travis can make it through. I agree that they're good together... despite the struggles. The struggles could work to bond them stronger. Thanks for your great comments on it, I really appreciate it. Cheers - Mac

I like him, too, Tim. Thanks for the show of support. Cheers - Mac

Hey BlindAmbition, I love your comment that Ben and Travis are Ying and Yang to each other. I like to think that's true. They're very different, but they fit well together, even so. Each person has something to give to the other. They're going to need each other's support in all of this. Thanks for the great comment, I appreciate it! Cheers - Mac

It's true. Being a celebrity who is openly LGBTQ still leaves a negative mark. And this is 12 years after this story takes place. Ben is considered a "Hollywood heartthrob". He's enjoyed being in the spotlight. It will be a huge hurdle for him. And he's not about to show up in Chicago with Travis on his arm (or is he...? haha...) Thanks for sharing your perspective on Ben's coming-out, droughtquake. You're pretty spot-on with it. Cheers - Mac

Haha, thanks Moggy. I appreciate your support. Cheers - Mac

Hey Graeme, thank you for this wonderful commentary. You see the hope in their relationship, despite the hardships, and that's what I want to portray. Life is definitely slower on the ranch, and that has a lot to do with why Ben is able to form this bond with Travis. If he was running around Hollywood, it probably wouldn't have progressed to this point. But he won't be on the ranch for much longer... As you pointed out, there will be some stormy weather ahead. Thanks again for your insight. Cheers - Mac

Thanks for counting on me to bring them through. I will do my best. You are right, there are many obstacles for these two, but with teamwork, they have a chance. Even a slight chance is better than none. Thanks for reading and commenting, Gary. I appreciate it.

"Mason called while you were out." Curtis' voice was sharp. The moment Travis exited from Red Cloud's stall, Curtis pushed a torn slip of paper at him. From Ben's perspective a few feet away, a notable sign of distress spread over Travis' face as he glanced down at it. But this agitated expression lasted only a second before he recovered and shoved the paper into his jeans pocket. His mask of stoicism resurfaced, and he mumbled over to his brother, "I'll get back with him." Curtis didn't

Strife of any kind is frustrating, but when it's instigated by family, it's even harder to deal with. Sorry your family's dealing with bullsh*t, Gary. Venting is good therapy. Writing poetry even more so - and that's something you do very well. Take care, my friend. - Mac

I have been in a similar boat. I am naturally an optimistic, easy-going person, but sometimes the cruelty of the world, the cruel intentions within people's hearts, hits me hard, and I fear I'm going to topple right over. But it takes optimistic, hopeful people like us, Gary, to help keep the world even-keeled. Too bad it's so emotionally draining to be one of the good guys. It's necessary to shut off the TV, log off of social media, and reflect, meditate, rejuvenate quietly for awhile (hopefully, we're awarded that time). Unfortunately, humans never learn from their mistakes, and we don't seem to be evolving out of that. You portrayed the anxieties, frustrations, and grief extremely well in this poem, my friend. I felt every single line. You are great at expressing the fragile human condition with your words.

Great prompt and I love your interpretation of it. We shouldn't get caught up in the external and the way things "look", therefore risking heartbreak. We're much better off valuing people for what's inside of them. Beauty fades.

Oh boy, my poem of mistakes could go on for pages and pages. And more pages. Yours are definitely relatable, Emi! In particular, being harsh and repugnant about our own selves. It's an easy pattern to fall into. We are our own worst critics. Thanks for sharing. Cheers - Mac

tim, your poems are always rich with emotion. This week's collection is no different. Dealing with changing seasons, changing relationships, changing perceptions. You capture it all in such a soulful way. The April 2 poem is especially moving to me, as is April 6, Bridges. The last poem is, of course, a mystery since I'm not familiar with the neighborhood you describe. I'll await the answer. I'm glad your collection was 'found'! Cheers - Mac

Your 'going to the movies' theme is a compelling way to tie your poems together while leaving plenty of room for experimentation. I like each of your poems here for week #1. The 'Careful' themed poems that many people have written are the most interesting, and yours are great. "Romance stares at the colorful world, having recently lost her rose-colored glasses." Really, really good. Your 'For Echo' poem was sweet but sad, and your six-line-form poem of holding hands in the dark theater made me smile. Thanks for sharing, Aditus! Cheers - Mac

The haikus are marvelous. I agree that the 'Careful' poems are exceptional. You personified the abstract nouns perfectly. I could "see" their movements and interactions with one another. "Truth careens around the room like a drunkard, causing sobriety with each slam." Love it. And your 'Happy Place' haiku took me right to a similar happy place. Thank you for sharing these, Val, I love them all. Cheers - Mac

As dughlas stated, you do make it seem so astonishingly easy. Words and images flow from you. I really enjoyed reading this first week's offerings. I haven't looked into the prompts, so I read your poems not having those in mind, which is probably better for me; I can appreciate them for what they are, not compare them to what the prompts asked for. The blue metal chair poem really stands out to me. I read it a few times. It intrigues me, because, unlike Val, I'm not 100% certain about the context or meaning. I just know that I like it. Is it post-game sadness? Sadness of being alone? A sense of failure or loss? Or just someone with a cold...? It could be any of those things, it could be none of those things. Or all of them. All of the poems are great, thank you for sharing them with us. Cheers - Mac

Fuck you, Cancer. You consume beautiful people and pluck them from the earth at your will. Without preference or prejudice, care or premeditation, you appear from the dark recesses -- offering no warning, no mercy -- slowly sucking the marrow from brittle bones, feasting on the flesh and organs of the innocent, extinguishing precious lives with sadistic indifference. Your gluttony is insatiable. You take what you want and leave the re

I'm just now reading this, just now discovering skinnydragon. I did not know about any of this until I started seeing/reading posts tonight honoring someone who clearly touched so many lives. I am deeply touched by what I've read and the great wave of grief expressed by everyone. I started out knowing nothing, now I'm heartbroken. This community on GA is unlike anything I've ever known. I'm sorry that I missed the opportunity to know skinny. I wish him peace. I wish the same for all of you.

The magazine landed with an alarming slap against the Formica tabletop, startling the family members who were seated around it eating breakfast. Katy's forkful of scrambled eggs halted midway to her mouth as she studied the cover of the tabloid laid out before her. She lifted her rid-rimmed, puffy eyes to look at Ben and Travis, and they towered over her with discontented stares. Together, they made a formidable pair, and she cowered in their presence. "Great job," Travis barked. "Real great

Achingly beautiful. Thank you for sharing. It was the perfect backdrop to something I'm writing.

Ha, these are great! I especially like that, although Nicolas is bleeding to death, the murders are just beginning.

Thanks to everyone who read and commented on this! It was fun to participate in the contest. I'll be honest, I wrote it the morning of the deadline date. I wasn't sure I was even going to write anything, but then the bug hit me. Jayce's prank was jarring, but it gave the story another layer of interest that was needed, since it was so short. I'm going to say that Jayce and Andy probably did share a similar sense of humor, as explored in chats we don't get to see, and that's what prevented Andy from punching Jayce into next year. He did say that he'd probably have played a similar joke on Jayce, if he'd been clever enough to think of it. Again, thanks for all your comments! Cheers - Mac