Thursday, 7 July 2011
It would come as no great revelation to those who know me that I am somewhat stylishly-challenged. On occasion I have caught the odd episode of Project Runway on cable, but that is about the extent of my exposure to visual art and design concepts. No, that's not completely correct, now that I come to think of it, I did see the last 10 minutes of a program on the ABC which was made, I think, by the BBC which was on at around 4 AM one Sunday morning eight or nine years ago that was presented by an octogenarian nun who had the biggest set of buck teeth I have seen since Who Framed Roger Rabbit? in 1989.
But, yes, you could say that when God was dispensing artistic talent pre-birth to the class of July 1975, I must have been down at the Pearly Gates pub, slamming down shots and ‘chasin’ hos’ with my homey Fiddy Cent, who was born a week prior to me. Word.
But I digress.
Now, I guess the elephant in the room is, why did I choose this particular background picture/wallpaper?
A reader may well ask, How am I to reconcile the clear incongruency, the dissonance, between the blog’s title and its wallpaper?
My response would likely be threefold. I'd begin with an admonishment for asking the question in such a wanky and pretentious manner before, secondly, attempting to ridicule the inquisitor for nitpicking, pointing out that this is my first attempt at blogging and I am on a rather steep learning curve. I'd conclude by explaining that after several hours of frenzied photo-shopping dozens of suitably vivid and infernal images, none of my creations would be good enough to hang on the back of a toilet door in a Soweto crack house (assuming, of course, that these places actually have toilet doors), let alone on my first attempt at web publishing (which I am trying very hard to make presentable!)
And so, I was left to take the action that any former lawyer would do in the same circumstances – I borrowed (plagiarised) from something I found using Google. In my own defence, my hand was forced because, as someone utterly devoid of even a scintilla of creativity, I was unable to make any text/background colour combinations work, other than black text on a white background or its inverse.
I did, for a while there, experiment with an awful yellow, orange and red swirly thing, which I attempted to draw myself. Unfortunately, parts of the black text were being lost in the orange and red swirley bits, and changing the font to white caused parts of it to get lost in the yellow bits. I eventually gave up, as I thought there was a fair chance that because that creation was so hard on the eye it easily could induce epileptic seizures.
The bleeding heart was selected as it was the first wallpaper with a white background that I found (from what seemed like hundreds) that didn't feature flowers, sunshine or puppy dogs. Believe me, it just didn't gel with this whole brooding, tortured writer thing that I've got going on.
That's not to say that there aren't any brooding, tortured writers who like flowers, sunshine or puppy dogs – I sure do, and I bet others do as well – but it just doesn’t seem to me to be the most masculine means of artistically revealing one's sensitive side.
To this end, I'm sure I'm not the only bloke to realise that nothing conveys Yeah, I’m really deep and into writing about my feelings and all that other chick stuff’ like a picture of a disembodied myocardium. Right?
Posted by Forest of Burning Dreams at Thursday, July 07, 2011