A note to Ces. Click on her name and view some extraordinary art by an extraordinary peep. I was commenting in her blog post, and (as happens frequently) I found myself writing a blog post--on HER blog! Imagine--grin! So this is my comment, here, instead of ummmm, there:
Engraving_by_derranged_gadgeteer (in Deviant Art)
Ces, there is a reason why your drawings (somewhat-etching-looking) and art, appeal to and interest me so, aside from the fact that you are a master (mistress just didn't look good in this comment).
--In Cincinnati Ohio, during the early 1950's I applied for a job as an engraver apprentice. (Yesss, I was one of those musicians who had to supplement their income.)
We were given a cutting tool, a piece of soft metal, and told to make "hundreds" of little marks in a very compact (SMALL) space. With an infinitesimal amount of instruction, then left on our own, we future "American Engravers Society" members, on stools at long work benches, set (sat?) out to be tested on our "promise" as tomorrow's engravers.
Out of 27 applicants only one passed the test--me. And I really wanted that job. And I was told "Come back tomorrow".
So excited was I about this job with its earnings potential and expectations, that I, so happy, felt like making merry. For me, reveling or rejoicing was in those days a lonely affair. One liter of cheep vodka--the kind you could still taste two days later--and some beer to keep hydrated. And the food? Well, none of that sort of thing for MY celebration!
As it turned out, the phone woke me 'early', about 11 AM. Boss wanted to know where is his newest employee? I gave him my "dentist pulled the wrong tooth" story, dressed, and went in to my new job. The foreman took one look at me, and I knew the jig was up. Discovery that their new "engraver-to-be" was just another common drunk, hurt me more than it did the engraving business.
Did they not realize that I would one day be essential to their very own business plan? Evidently not. My career ended ignominiously, as I should have presupposed. This was not my first encounter with peeps who just "did not understand" genius.
And so life rolled on....and on.
Today I am sober.
And I am REALLY not a genius...or had you guessed?
But I still love you, peeps!