Soy Joy Pancake

I made a picture for today but it's not finished yet. I'll post it when it is.

But it's the kind of happiness from when muddy robots get their giant filthy feet all over your carpet and ruin it. Stupid robots. Playing in the mud and sleeping in the woods.

At first you're so mad that you want to strike a tall person with a bassoon. But then you think about it and calmly clean up all the mud using the proper cleaning products and hard work.

And you take a step back and look at what you've accomplished. A little bit of calm thought can make all your messy robot problems look like a tiny bag of pickled t-shirts.

You're the king of right angles. Geometry works best with steady hands and steady glands.

Happiness is a Warm Pancake: And also the number 5.

I did one image of a pancake stack, and then 3 sets of 3 images related to that first pancake stack.

And then we get to 5 sets of 5 images of those stackcakes.

This first set of 5 is about a stack of pancakes in space as happiness.

It has primary colors with big thick, deep-dish pancakes.

It's like happy doughy children floating on oversized inner tubes down a river of beeswax and pocket lint. Electric Light Orchestra is coming out of sunflower heads.

And the children are eating the inner tubes until their bodies become donut-like and there's a giant hole inbetween their eyes in the middle of their head.

But they can't feel it so they're just pointing and laughing at each other.

That's that kind of happiness up there.

Why Pancakes in Space Make a Great Hero

Ask yourself why a stack of pancakes floating in the farthest reaches of the galaxy makes a great literary protagonist!

Ask yourself!

Come up with anything?

I'll give you a reason or ten.

The stack of pancakes isn't just some character--it's a mirror. It reflects whatever emotions and ideas you put in it and shows them to you. 

And why is that important?

Because in the same way you can't use your eyeballs to see your own eyes, you can't think about the stuff inside your head without bouncing it off the outside world first. It creates an image that matches the fluid amorphous, slippery thoughts in your head and then you see it and you realize, "oh! This thing is like the thing in my head!" And now you can think about it and do all kinds of stuff with it.

For example,   

The stack of pancakes aren't just experiencing icy frozen sadness, they are sadness. These sad sad pancakes are the way you come to understand sadness itself. 

Like if sadness was grape juice, you know, the pale kind of white grape juice. And in your head, the grape juice has just been poured on a plain, bare wooden table. Well, you can't really see it. Or know anything about it. It's all sloshy and slurpy and a puddle of mumbles.

But the stack of pancakes is like a drinking glass for the grape juice. You pour the grape-brain juice out of your ears and into the glass and you can look through the glass and see the grape juice and go, "Oh! That's grape juice!"

But instead you look at sad pancakes crying a single giant tear and you understand what sadness is. 

Then you can drink it and put in the toilet later and flush it away forever!

Or another example,

You can't just know what plaid is. The plaid pancakes show you--give you a medium to understand--the raw element of plaid.

This is deepening your human experience! Pay attention!

You think you can walk around on the street or ride the bus all day looking out the window and try to know what the true meaning of plaid is?

Impossible. The stack of space pancakes has made the abstract into a concrete reality. It's turned energy to mass at the speed of fun!

PLAID PANCAKES! It's like the last strike of the shovel at the bottom of the well before you unearth the violent geyser of soy sauce boiling below the surface.

(for our purposes, a violent boiling soy sauce geyser is a good thing)

And finally, before I drown completely in metaphors...

Only through the stack of space pancakes can you see the thrilling bemusement of complete and total goobery.

Lakes of Light

Lakes of light! Lakes of light! Lakes of light!

Mooses drink from lakes of light and shine my eyes to sleep.

Yesterday I was like...

run like you enjoy running.

It was hard. I imagined a cranky guru telling me, "You're nothing, kid. You run like a boy who wants something out of this. If you want something out of something go ask your momma to make you some mac and cheese with tiny sausages. You gotta run like you love running."

"But I'm just running!"

"No! No! No! Run like you love it."

"But...but...but it's just running." I try smiling but it turns into an ugly grimace.

"You're hopeless."

But that's the new goal anyway.

"The things in our control are by nature free, unrestrained, unhindered; but those not in our control are weak, slavish, restrained, belonging to others. Remember, then, that if you suppose that things which are slavish by nature are also free, and that what belongs to others is your own, then you will be hindered. You will lament, you will be disturbed, and you will find fault both with gods and men. But if you suppose that only to be your own which is your own, and what belongs to others such as it really is, then no one will ever compel you or restrain you. Further, you will find fault with no one or accuse no one. You will do nothing against your will. No one will hurt you, you will have no enemies, and you not be harmed. 

Aiming therefore at such great things, remember that you must not allow yourself to be carried, even with a slight tendency, towards the attainment of lesser things. Instead, you must entirely quit some things and for the present postpone the rest. But if you would both have these great things, along with power and riches, then you will not gain even the latter, because you aim at the former too: but you will absolutely fail of the former, by which alone happiness and freedom are achieved. "

Strawb3rry Nearing

Steadily, time passes on and imperceptible frames of the moment create the illusion of drifting. Plate of pancakes is drifting forward, apparently. Or, since this void is without direction, the pancakes are drifting towards the strawberry in the distance.

Or the strawberry is approaching while the pancakes remain motionless. Or neither is moving and the strawberry is expanding at a furious rate. We cannot know but we feel something. We feel the impending sense of a meeting, an encounter.

But things are happening much too fast. This moment, this first moment--how can we be prepared, plate of pancakes?

Have you grown cold? When was the last time you were microwaved? Is your butter just a frozen chunk of space detritus? You must prepare. You must be on your best, most gracious, behavior. You must prepare. You must prepare for this moment that has never happened and will never happen again and, for that matter, might as well not happen at all,

but it will happen. Whatever it is, it will happen.    

It is much much closer now!

How have you changed plate of pancakes?! Are you smaller? Has it grown larger? 

Oh glory, look at the swirling colors. Like a tornado of peaches whipping through a lake of day-glo Magic Markers! 

Can we eat it? Can we touch it? Can we wish for Christmas every day? Can we throw ourselves into its orbit and be carried on solar winds? 

This is a strange adventure. 

You are a long way away for a plate of pancakes, plate of pancakes. You are a long way away from anything a plate of pancakes should be doing. Do you miss sitting in the microwave, kept warm, waiting to be eaten? Do you miss the warm maple syrup and clinking sounds of knifes and forks being collected from the drawer? What about the smell of rich, dark coffee? 

You don't miss it now! Because this is the new! This is the shining swirling gleaming dizzying new! Grab on tight to your houndstooth trousers! We approach!

Oh! Oh my! Not like this! Not like this! It's not...It's not a good thing! Turn away, plate of pancakes! All that glitters is NOT gold!

It's got teeth like bon-bons and eyes like pickled brains! It's got typhoid and diabetes in its saliva!

 Head back to the distance! Head away from here!

Find a new plan and some comfort in familiar empty spaces.

3 Views--None Blue

But wait! What is this?!

The plate of pancakes was not alone. Even the void is not without onlookers. Who are these people of pancake? Watching from a perspective unknown--crowded around the shining sphere that encompasses everything we thought we knew and could ever know in finite space?

Do they hold our fate in their doughy hands? Will they provide the moves and shakes while we are left to hopelessly tumble in ever-shifting chaos?

We can make the strong assumption then that these are dark beings. Formed and coagulated from vile, nefarious batter in a skillet stinking of the drops off a greasy witch's brow. 

They are starving, ravenous figures feasting on dreams. Devouring the good as soon as it is obtained to make the hunger burn hotter and the sting of desperation sharper. Poison syrup pumps like sludge through their burnt, blackened hearts and oozes out of their soggy porous skin.

They peer like saucer-eyed wraiths dripping in the slime of indecency and other things that are not very nice at all! 

Surrender, plate of pancakes! There will be no glorious homecoming for you. You will surely lose any home to return to.






or maybe not. Maybe it's not like that at all when the light shines on the shadows.

Maybe we are only watched, only in the presence of, sundry forces with no right or wrong. No good or bad. Just the silly pancake people lost in their own roles played with full conviction and verve. 

Fly on, plate of pancakes!

You do right by you and somebody will do you right.