re*done*dunce

December 29, 2013 § 3 Comments

though may be re done dance is more apt.

I’m a good writer, when I write, heard myself say, waiting to start work on a rant which has no perfect beginning so it lies in wait, for just the right rite write moment, or pen, or wind or brink or nothing else to do, not that it’s not brewing just under the surface or dissipating in one too many conversations about it.

even now, I can’t find the first bite.

never let it be said that art isn’t tricky business, not the art part but the business part a tricky art, pricing is one thing but now I’m on about the signing ones work thing as if that makes it real, or identifies it as my work or that you are special because you have a work that is signed or that it is a trophy and you are in some club because you have a  signed art/i/fact, not that I haven’t asked someone to sign something for me, but I never really thought about what it was, or what it (might) mean/s or why I would spend the few moments up close and personal asking for a signature instead of looking the person in the eye
and smiling, or saying thank you or hello for that matter

as if the work doesn’t stand alone, and it’s the signature which makes it worth $500.00. Salvidor Dali had the write rite right idea signing blank pieces of paper, though it made the value of his signed work go down, how does that make any damned sense, as if the whole book, or piece is not ones signature

as if the signature has anything to do with it

anyway, I don’t like signing my books
It seems redundant. (And I’m not sure what it means, a means to an end, ways and means, and just means from a value meaning ha!) and if you won’t pay, or you don’t have the means, or mean to pay what I think a book of mine is worth because it is not signed, oh well then I guess it means I get to keep them, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health till the cows come home or the mouse runs up the clock

hmm, this is a good start.
now, I’m going to make a signature signature, how’s that for re done dance

P.S. or maybe every book from now on will have a poem called autograph…

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