Blog2L2
- Baldessari May 18, 2012 Derek Bridges
- Rewind May 11, 2012 Derek Bridges
- Going in the Opposite Direction May 8, 2012 Derek Bridges
- Rope Man with Cigarette April 25, 2012 Derek Bridges
Looking through their eyes
Looking through their eyes
it was hard for me to walk
as I judged my walk
as stiff and “white”
and hated myself.
I saw myself
through their eyes
on the
Football field
Basketball court
Baseball diamond
Hell of high-school gym class
stumbling around
in ignorance of the rules
and fear of the hurtling spheres
and I judged myself
a useless faggot.
I saw myself through their eyes
talking to white kids
and it appeared both
that I hated being black
and that I was better
than those black faces
watching me.
I saw myself in my
outdated boot-cut jeans
and leather jacket
as a nerd and
a freak.
Something beyond
explanation.
I saw my delicate face
and thin limbs
and heard my “proper” talk
and saw myself as
a victim waiting to happen.
I saw my thin frame
trying to remain invisible
as I walked the halls
between classes
only to wind up hunched
over a spiral binder
drawing comics, while
the teacher talked on about
Algebra.
Through their eyes
I saw myself walking… Continue reading
Punk Rock Princess
She showed up last year
with a group of drunken babies, hedonists and
troubled look-at-me’s.
She was plastered with all the
Punk-rock concentrated jim-jams:
Mohawk
ripped fishnets
combat boots
bra through net-top
facial tattoos
plaid miniskirt
bullet-belt
Belladonna gap-tooth smile
and shot through with stainless.
Baptized in a barrel of butcher knives with
an advanced degree in
taking her clothes off.
Not pretty in the Marie Claire Sorority way
but like a blinding light
in the Austin TX swamp of
doughy Bettie Page haircut
pre-fab Rockabilly Stepford wives.
She now spends her time
shaking her ass
to pay for 5-dollar hamburgers and
cab rides for her
cleft-chinned boyfriends.
Rockers with teeth in their
hearts and brains,
bartenders with dead eyes
leather-wearing versions
of young Republicans in
date-rape shirts spelled out in Greek.
This punk-rock world as closed-minded and limited
as any Jew-hating country-club.
Loss follows her as she chases
Dogs made of shadows through
The perfect cobweb.
Mister Bunny’s Mystical 2010 makeover
Mister Bunny was originally conceived in 2004 from a pillow-case and a few leather-jacket zippers. I guess I've been trying to perfect the creepy stuffed animal ever since.
Continue readingThe Adventures of Tad Martin (Average American Teenager) Issue #1
In the summer of 1990 I attended the annual Chicago Comicon. I brought along Xeroxed copies of two finished stories to hand out to publishers. I ran into the Caliber Press table and met Gary Reed (publisher), and handed him the samples. One year later I received a call in Lubbock, TX that Caliber would like to do a one-shot comic of my creation. I had total creative-control. That was how Tad Martin was born. The first issue sold well enough that Gary offered me a five-issue contract. Over the next 4 issues my style clarified and I learned by doing.
I will be posting the others within the week.
http://www.facebook.com/#!/album.php?aid=28995&id=1704336336&fbid=1224646992019
My real resume
I work for the University of Texas, and it pays the bills. I could use more money but I'm not going to complain, things could be much worse, much more uncertain. I know because I’ve been there. I've had many, many jobs in my adult life. I've managed to whittle together a pretty seamless resume of 5 jobs, but the truth is much more entertaining. My actual resume would never get me a job, but it's pretty interesting. Here are my jobs as follows;
Continue readingMemora
My rental car stalls on a country backroad. I turn the key, and it chugs away helplessly. I get out and start walking down the gravel pathway. The sun is shining pleasantly. I soon see a small farmhouse in the distance. The grass along the road is tall, and amber colored, it whips along with the wind. Behind me, I can hear what sounds like rainfall, or popping corn, only faint, as if at a distance. I turn around and see the undulating blackness of a locust swarm. It was coming my way, like a filthy blanket...rolling.
Continue reading1988
Huge ragged holes open the knees of my jeans, deep crescents of shadow banding my spindly legs. Bulky engineer boots, comical fat-soled knob-toed Frankenstein feet sprouting from calves as thick as my forearms.
Toss on my leather jacket and trench coat on top. Its cold outside. West Texas cold. Fonzerelli scarecrow shivering in the darkness.
Footsteps echoing along the concrete walls of the underground parking lot. Sounds sharpened by the chill.
Continue readingLowered Expectations
Hey, look at that ad. Cute girls in my area want to meet 42 year old men! What a coincidence, as I am 42 years old!
Continue readingNotes on the Psychological Impact of Wearing Sunglasses After Dark
Negative connotations of sunglasses after dark:
1) Person is high
2) Person is blind
3) Person is a liar
4) Person is "trying to be cool."
Extreme Sports
I was sixteen, and darkness had fallen
and we’re riding our bikes.
The boys I’m riding with
turn onto 95th street
and I follow
even though we’re headed towards
a white neighborhood.
I figured we were going to turn around
as the first set of railroad tracks
pass under my wheels
I feel fear
creeping over me.
I tell them we should turn
around.
They only laugh
and pedal faster.
I sure as hell
don’t want to go forward
but can’t go back
by myself.
So I plunge into the night
behind the fools on wheels
as we rattle over the
second set of tracks
I know we’ve gone
way too far.
Cars swerve close
horns blaring
laughter in the voices
of my friends
(years before extreme sports)
as the high-beams light on
our backs
and I see my shadow
splattered
on the ground
in front of me.
They laugh as windows
are rolled down
curses are flung
along with pieces of garbage
at us.
My nerves jangle
as cars slow down
then pass with… Continue reading
Here comes the bride (a Craigslist shopping-list)
Date: 2009-11-04, 12:28PM CST
Reply To This Post
Yes, I’m finally ready for marriage.
I’ve started this post twice already only to have it vanish into a black hole somewhere. I could try to retype every word but I have other things to do today.
Here’s the abbreviated version.
You:
Be tall. Tall is 6′ and over.
Be 35 to 45 years old. I like young guys. The old ones seem to be set in their ways. I would like someone to be flexible and open minded.
Be attractive (you know who you are),… Continue reading
An open letter to the guy who draws on the elevator doors every day with his nose grease
Note: the acronym (CMA) is a University Of Texas at Austin building name abbreviation for the College of Communication Building B
Hey guy who draws on the elevator doors every day with his nose grease. I just thought I’d drop you a line and tell you about the sunshine that you bring me every day.
Y’know, sometimes I come in to work with a frown on my face because of the heady political and social times we are living through. I’ll be all cloudy and stormy as I walk into CMB but then, what do I see? I see a wonderful and original work of art that’s drawn on the stainless steel doors of both elevators. Yes, it doesn’t even matter which one I get on because you (as a true artist) have taken full advantage of every canvas that is offered to you.
I must admit, I am a bit jealous of your bold artistic statements and wonder what you are doing in CMB, when you obviously should be in the art department with… Continue reading