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Canvas Blues – LXXIV: Present

04 Wednesday Aug 2021

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CANVAS BLUES
Vignettes Regarding the Artwork of Brendon Kotes

LXXIV: Present

“This is Casey,” Orion mused. He pressed a finger against the raised paint from where a different painting had ripped the wall when Brendon had removed it. “But he’s not normally here. The lines from the frame are the wrong size, don’t match up with what was here originally.”

Brendon shoved his hands deep into his pockets and did his best not to look self-conscious.

“You were trying it.” Orion met his gaze after an unsettling glance across Brendon’s bedroom. “Did it work?”

With a slow shake of his head Brendon turned away.

“He’s young in this painting. Younger than I’d have imagined. You were friends for a long while? Had to be. First relationship. He bail on you? I can’t imagine you wanting to revisit him were it the other way around.”

Brendon cleared his throat, but didn’t say anything.

“You’re like a painting yourself, Brendon.” Orion moved closer, his voice going deeper, smoother. “All facing outward, your emotions like strokes across your skin. Dark, but not shadowy, yet hiding bits of yourself inside all the business of your work.”

Brendon took a step back, needing the space as his world shrank, zeroing in on Casey where he smiled on the wall and Orion’s steady, steely presence. “I wanted it to be real. I wanted to believe you. But it’s not. It didn’t work.”

Orion only nodded and turned back to Casey’s painting. “That is interesting. That had been another theory of mine. If it wasn’t the artist’s intentions, perhaps it’s the viewer’s.” He ran a finger through the air, miming stroking Casey’s cheek. Then he raised an eyebrow at Brendon. “Maybe the artist as viewer is immune.”

Brendon sank onto the edge of his bed, a visceral feeling clutching at his gut. The bed sagged as Orion sat next to him, the mattress too old to remain firm, pressing their thighs together as they dipped toward one another. Orion made no move to pull away. So Brendon didn’t either. Continue reading →

Canvas Blues – LXXIII: Yesteryears

28 Wednesday Jul 2021

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CANVAS BLUES
Vignettes Regarding the Artwork of Brendon Kotes

LXXIII: Yesteryears

Funny thing about floating about in the middle, no one ever thinks of you like that. It’s either one side or the other. The if-you’re-not-with-me-you’re-against-me mentality. Active imaginations thinking gossip, gossip, gossip, about the person not around. Over-sensitivity, youthfulness, anxieties all working to destroy what rationalism some might have possessed otherwise.

Brendon tried, he truly did, desperate to continue clinging to the two friends he’d raced down Grant’s Lorry Road with in the summer, the two friends he’d met in an old car cemetery time after time to play hide and seek among the rusted fenders and rotted rubber and butterfly gatherings.

Sure Casey got the bulk of his time, the most of his focus, his teenaged mind lost to hormones and new sensations. Robbie got his own time though, the two of them sitting at Robbie’s expansive dining room table, sketches and outlines spread across two thirds of the space. They worked on two comics concurrently.

The first one was to be a serialized fantasy about a spiderling who controlled the minds of a typical dungeon-crawling party. Each comic somewhat separate with occasional short arcs deep within specific dungeons or inside particular taverns, but generally individual in nature ala Sunday morning funnies.

The second one took far more of Brendon’s artistic chops, for the humorous alterations in character and setting just would not do, the space stations and exoplanets and marauders needing to have a realistic flare within their design. Robbie set the stage, his countless notes on plot arcs and character traits exposing a sweet naivety in their creation, but filled with so much passion, so much love, that the flaws disappeared.

They’d completed almost fifty individual panes of the fantasy comic—It’s All Under Control—and a measly, but gorgeous, fourteen panes of the grimdark sci-fi—Stars Avast—when Casey found out. Continue reading →

Canvas Blues – LXXI: Present

14 Wednesday Jul 2021

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CANVAS BLUES
Vignettes Regarding the Artwork of Brendon Kotes

LXXI: Present

Tell me about this Casey. As if Casey could be expressed in simple words.

Brendon poured them both another round of the old whiskey. Too much probably, but Evelyn Yert remained on the mind. Again, too much so. He swallowed, gaze darting about the room, catching on his sketches, wondered whether he should tear them all down, start fresh, blank walls, clean slate.

“Brendon?” Orion’s voice so soft, a gentle, coaxing sound from a man who could be so hard and unyielding.

“You have a high school love? Not a crush or a fling, but an actual love affair.”

Orion studied Brendon closely. “The kind where you find yourself crying in the shower and pretend it’s just the water?”

Brendon opened his hands in an approximation of a shrug. For him it hadn’t been the shower; it’d been his easel over at Llama Park, just out of sight of the lakeside hiking trail, where a little gurgling brook that fed into the lake happily ignored the angry paint smears and harsh words.

“It’s like you fall in love with a person one day and wake up the next to discover that that person never actually existed at all.”

Orion nodded slowly. “Heartbreak hits even the coldest of us.”

“Right. I’m not saying I’m somehow different.” Brendon stood abruptly, paced the small living room, knowing that Orion stared but unable to stop himself from moving, needing the action, the fingers not holding his glass twitching with the desire to hold a paintbrush. “Things just look different when you’re younger.”

“Emotions are heightened,” began Orion.

“No, not that. Well, yes, you’re right, but that’s not what I’m referring to.” It’s all about perspective. “You see people one way when seeing things through a child’s eyes.”

“And then you grow up to realize your parents’ flaws or grow away from friends.”

“He was…”

Orion remained quiet, unmoving in the armchair that backed against the far wall. Along the wall beyond his head there were sketches of crabs, of cattails, of many, many lined boat drawings because Brendon had been practicing ripples, ripples and more ripples. Continue reading →

Canvas Blues – LXX: Yesteryears

26 Wednesday May 2021

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CANVAS BLUES
Vignettes Regarding the Artwork of Brendon Kotes

LXX: Yesteryears

That summer between sophomore and junior year, Donna Pierceman called three times seeking something new for her gallery for that September. The theme—Family History—gave Brendon no inspiration despite repeated suggestions first from his mom, then from Aunt Laurel. They certainly thought this new theme was important.

“Family—our family—is different from others. You should be proud of it, to have something representing us on display.”

That repeatedly came from his mom all summer long because she’d gotten a bird in her ear and now believed Brendon somehow suffered from teenage embarrassment, which he wasn’t, at least not completely, that was lending him to cringe at the gallery theme. But the truth would have shocked and frustrated his mom worse because Casey-fever had taken hold and the only painting he sketched out time and time again was a birthday present for Casey’s seventeenth.

This one had to be the best of Brendon’s paintings. Something to make Casey sigh and smile dreamily. Something to make their next kiss elevated to heaven, to entwine them more powerfully than any other two people in the world, living or dead. Continue reading →

Canvas Blues – LXVII: Yesteryears

05 Wednesday May 2021

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CANVAS BLUES
Vignettes Regarding the Artwork of Brendon Kotes

LXVII: Yesteryears

Brendon had no real words for that first kiss. The slush coming down, spattering across Casey’s Mustang. The vibrations of the wipers as they struggled to clear the water. The chill that seeped in through the floorboards. The contrasting warmth blowing on his arm. Those were the things that would forever drag him back.

He knew he’d been second-choice, second best. And yet, in that moment, he thought he’d won. Casey’s mouth warmer than the heat purring from the engine, his hands gentler than the rain, and when he sighed and settled his forehead on Brendon’s shoulder Brendon simply held him there.

A moment etched in time. Casey’s stress sliding away. The anger fizzling, struggling to gain purchase, but like the slush coursing down the windows, Brendon stroked down Casey’s back until there was nothing but warmth where there’d been fire, nothing but contentment where there’d been bitterness.

Their lips, soft, open, became a conduit. Years of desire, years of confusion, all coming to a head as tongues darted carefully, reaching for the empty feeling in order to fill it up, twist it about, make it tumble away. Brendon shivered, numb and hot and kissing in a state of shocked happiness. Finally having a taste of what-could-be, what-might-be. That kiss drew, like lines in his sketchbook, shading and coloring until the entire world blended together— Continue reading →

Canvas Blues – LXVI: Yesteryears

28 Wednesday Apr 2021

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CANVAS BLUES
Vignettes Regarding the Artwork of Brendon Kotes

LXVI: Yesteryears

They drove down Grant’s Lorry Road, fast enough they took that bump at speeds that sent their stomach’s dropping. Casey huffed and ground the pedal down further when they turned down Old Sycamore Road, the canopy above their heads barren, clawing, like dying dryads, and the road slick and overrun with icy water in the worst of places.

Chilly wind whipped in through the millimeter gaps where the rubber pulled off the windows and Casey’s iPod sang glory rock through crackly speakers.

“She’s nothing but a cow. Been handed through every guy on the varsity lacrosse team and some of the JV as well. Can’t believe he’d let a slut like that catch his eye. Idiot never could keep his liquor.”

“You’re not really mad at Evelyn,” murmured Brendon, but he stopped short of defending her. He should have, he realized later, but fear kept his filters up and his throat closed down.

“She’s not worthy of me being mad at her,” Casey agreed. “Fucking Robbie though.”

“Why’s it matter?”

“Because he looks down his nose at us, like we’re nothing but dirt.”

“Have you talked to him?” Continue reading →

Canvas Blues – LXV: Present

21 Wednesday Apr 2021

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CANVAS BLUES
Vignettes Regarding the Artwork of Brendon Kotes

LXV: Present

Brendon should have spent the rest of the day working. He had three active commissions that called to him, a few emails that begged responses, and a gallery showing to plan for the end of next month, but he found himself, just as Orion probably knew he would, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a giant binder and a mass of contracts and papers, wishing he had already hired someone to sort the logistics of his job into legible order.

How exactly did one go about calling up old clients and customers to ask, “Hello, has the painting not swallowed or spit out anyone who’s viewed it? No? Thank you. Please don’t call the psych ward. Have a good one.”

His internet search skills left much to be desired as he had a tendency to buy books he could pore over for information rather than reach for a computer or phone or anything in between. Maybe if he’d been more of a digital artist…

Evening had turned the studio into a red cloud by the time Brendon realized a generally easy solution. Why, call and let all previous customers know about the new gallery showing. Now, to figure out how to call each and every one of these customers without letting the phone grow horns and eat what social skills he possessed…

No, that wasn’t a good solution either.

Brendon found himself sitting at his paint-speckled work table late into the evening typing in names and addresses and feeling like a stalker. He found nothing and more nothing. Lists of honor rolls dotted with first and last names unconnected. Continue reading →

Coffee & Conversation: What’s your take on copyright? (1 of 2)

19 Monday Apr 2021

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What’s your take on the current copyright law?

This is based on the law in the United States.

There’s this persistent, nefarious belief that authors should not be allowed to hold copyright of their work for any decent length of time (the going argument is copyright should only last 20-30 years after publication). I hope, rather than know, that these beliefs are only held by a loud, uneducated minority, but since there’s probably a lot of misunderstanding concerning copyright, I wanted to talk about it.

Let’s first talk about what copyright is:

Copyright is the ownership of one’s words (or other creation). In the United States, copyright lasts for 70 years after the author’s death. [There are other, slightly different, time frames when doing things like work-for-hire, etc.] For the sake of this post and the next, I will be talking about copyright mostly from the perspective of writing.

You gain copyright of your words the moment you write them. Not when you register a copyright, not when you show your words to anyone, not even when a book is published. Your copyright is yours the moment you write those words. They could be on a napkin. Or a piece of fabric. Or even written on a wall. Doesn’t matter. They are yours. Continue reading →

Canvas Blues – LXIV: Yesteryears

14 Wednesday Apr 2021

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CANVAS BLUES
Vignettes Regarding the Artwork of Brendon Kotes

LXIV: Yesteryears

The day Casey found out Robbie had sex with Evelyn Yert was a cold, slushy day in mid-January. He came roaring up in that blue Mustang of his, exhaust cut short as if he thought the world wouldn’t notice him otherwise. He wore no coat, not even a rain jacket to hold off the mush occasionally sluicing down for minutes at a time.

Short-sleeved and angry, Casey banged on the door, setting off Mom’s angel prism to spinning tortured rainbows across the entrance. From down the hall came her voice, her ears attuned to the chaos that was Casey.

“You tell that rascal not to punch my door, Brendon. Tell him I’ll not invite him to a single casserole dinner if he can’t find some quiet in his crazy.”

Red-eyed and rough, Casey scowled the moment Brendon opened the door.

“Not inside. Can’t be cooped up. Not now. Come on.” He turned before he’d finished speaking, sure in the knowledge Brendon wouldn’t resist.

He was bouncing on his toes in the wet street, hands shoved into his pockets and breath coming out in dragon steam puffs by the time Brendon joined him, handing a second coat over. Casey merely laughed miserably and climbed into the driver’s seat, so that coat went into the back, crumpled to the floor where it lay forgotten for three weeks.

“Did you know?” Continue reading →

Canvas Blues – LXIII: Yesteryears

07 Wednesday Apr 2021

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CANVAS BLUES
Vignettes Regarding the Artwork of Brendon Kotes

LXIII: Yesteryears

The fact that Tori Kel no longer hung around Robbie, rubbing in Casey’s face all that he could not have, became a springboard for that rubber band to return. The two of them called a grudging truce one random day, with not an iota of advance warning or thought to it.

“Can I sit here?” asked Robbie that April, tray of sloppy joe and french fries held balanced in one hand with his red bookbag hanging from the other.

Casey looked up with mouth frozen half-open and for once didn’t seem to have a word to say, though his gaze bounced all around Robbie and down to his hand where the splint had been a mainstay for many months during middle school.

“Sure,” said Brendon with a raised brow toward Casey. He scooted his sketchbook down, away from danger, and crumpled his trash to a more reasonable diameter. “Read any good comics lately?”

“Oh man,” said Robbie with a grin for the ages. “You know that one you really like about the mage with the tattoos? The guy who wrote it just came out with a new webcomic. It’s about a werewolf patrol that falls into a different dimension. It’s pretty good.”

“Send me the link.”

After a few moments of painfully awkward silence at the table, Casey cleared his throat and said, “Saw a new BMW in your driveway last week. Parents get a new car?” Continue reading →