Each patch orange and white seems familiar in a similar way. With any form, and lacking definite shape, each figure seems to be a terrible recollection of a far-away dream.
Memories, it seems, work is strange and varied ways. A select whiffs, for instance, can jog the memory unlike anything else. Yet that covetous object remains too far to grab; perhaps an in further than what can be reached. The time and place are recalled - almost as if that space and moment is being lived in once again. But nothing, it seems, is ready to stare back. All that remains are the strange looking shapes of both orange and white.
Alas, dear reader, pay no heed to the ominous tone. Contrary to what has already been written, spirits are high. All is well at the offices Noggle Brain Trust, LLP. As is typically the case, hot coffee is brewing. Both the music and the smoke are deafeningly loud and have already begun bleeding into the immediate surroundings. Each and every sound wave sagaciously slither across the panorama while a delicate smoke spins around itself before dissipating into the air. Privileged perhaps, but the world itself has yet to issue a formal complaint.
Much like any other day - sitting at the foot of a light-colored, wooden desk by window, Groucho Marx peeking his head from behind a wiry, black metal desk lamp - a careful routine is carried out; and with any luck, writing will follow. If hope prevails, a steady tapping sound will be heard in betwixt the sound spilling from the speaker on the desk's back corners. Words diligently appear on the screen, then disappear, and finally re-appear in a slightly different form. On the best of days, the keyboard develops a rhythm all its own. The author, meanwhile, has begun staring off into the expanse of the white walls that surround him. Eventually this mind will rejoin its body. Until then, fluid finger guide thoughts from the crown of the author's mind, through insulated wiring, and into physical being.
But the colors cannot be ignored. Out on the fringes, steadily causing each passer-by fright, are shade of each: orange and white. Sinewed reflections of light fortifying their earthy presence and the colors preferred this season.
In Arizona, pupils are passively prepared and problem probably follow. These wards to the department of education have already spent two months in the classroom this year. Children in the Grand Canyon state, however, are among those least funded in the country. So while the following is meant to serve as a reminder, it may be an lesson in and of itself.
After all, each student is required to know Arizona's history before enrolling in secondary school. Criticism, though, is common. Ethnic background is just as likely to determine the lesson as well as the quality of instruction. But the truth is complex, and in place of a curriculum is, instead, a neatly packaged political narrative. Veracity is an ever fleeting force. Controversy is the only certitude as students become the very lesson they were meant to be taught. Then again, such is the nature of the forty-eighth state, where each one Hecates' faces is pulling in a different direction.
Uncontroversial - or at least beyond substantive discussion - are the state's "five C's," Each contribution to the list describes a staple of the state;s economy. Of the five, cattle, copper, and climate are, of course, the least visible. Relevance, however, is not a requirement. Car shows and trade conference tend to appear a-plenty and neither, as of yet, as warranted being mentioned in a note as an honorable C. Regardless, each winter concludes in much the same. The tourism and hospitality industry rejoice as city streets are overrun for two, or three, straight months; a sight well worthy of beholding. Each facet of the culture becomes enveloped in the procedures. The author has even tumbleweeds and saguaros - identities maintained anonymous journalistic purposes - discuss the sudden lack of open space to which they had previously been accustomed.
The remaining two C's are both common sights. Citrus and cotton both bloom at much the same time; and each proves to be the source for those ubiquitous colors. The sight of orange and white, nonetheless, brings with it a certain comfort. Once oranges and grapefruits overrun residential areas, it feels as though another a routine is not suddenly complete. With this new found recognition, the colors usher in a new chapter. The order of things - whatever it may be - has been calibrated. Change, it may be, is the world's only constant; citrus and cotton, however, provide some harmless continuity.
What does not, and cannot change, and the hues across the morning Phoenix skyline. Out on the periphery, orange and white loom large.
It should be noted that citrus must be picked. Once matured, and these fruits reach the ground level, none can be left unattended. On less than a day's notice roof rats would be sure appear.The message is clear: tend to old business, lest it rot in place, in which case vermin will tend to it first.
For its part, cotton provides a soft, breathable material with which to make clothes. The raw good, however, is of no practical use when sitting in a dirt field. Seeds must be put through a mill; fiber passed through a gin.. Be that as it may, another lesson is now evident. In order to produce something, anything, new, wanton work is required.
The return to the light-wooden desk, now, is graceful. Since this thought process started, the sun outside this window has set; even becoming bashful. Similarly, wild inconsistency has followed B-Side A-Hole since its inception. What began as a a stated purpose merely paved a road and results were ambitious, if not senselessly long. Alas, an idea became clear to the author: self-motivated writing could be accomplished.
Needless to say, wn astonishing amount of work, is required in order to be in anyway "good." As a result, writing has not always been easy. Seldom has the author even ventured to call the activity "fun." At the time of this writing, pleasure seems fittingly fleeting; fulfillment is another matter entirely. Still, writing itself has proved itself to be worthy of investing the limited resources of time and energy.
It just so happened that the author was unprepared (or unwilling) following to maintain consistency. A hiatus would now ensue. Abandoning the infracture - expensive and heavy - seemed foolish nonetheless. It was for this reason, then, that the project commenced once again. Abandoned pieces were recovered and a modifed goal was kept in mind: concision and frequency. A fresh routine was established and gleeful repetition unexpectedly reached.
But colors orange and white have once again appear. A change in approach and vision, each with utmost precision, is desperately needed.
It should be noted, that two such natural world routine have passed since the inauguration of B-Side A-Hole; the completion there of a cycle. Like controversy to Arizona, winter events in snow-free destinations, and the appearance of orange and white, it would only make sense if these pages followed in those footsteps tonight. The author feel his ability to grow and improve within the craft has not yet dissipated. Learning only subsides if the mind becomes complicit.
Such is the case when reflecting on the project at hand. Like oil it water, it does not trouble to rise toward the surface.
An audience is important in form of expression. Rarely, though, has B-Side A-Hole catered to any outsiders' needs or interests. ny and all writing that has appeared on these pages has been created with the intention of pleasing on one person: the author himself. A change in approach must occur. From this point forward, posts will be take-on a friendlier, short-form appearance. A focused subject matter will hopefully continue as approach is diversified. In addition to a higher volume of - lest the dreaded word be omitted - content, medium-length form will be reserved for more exclusive works. Long-form contributions, however, will continue to the sparse and varied. The remaining drafts for medium-length posts, though, will be completed and published soon.
Furthermore, it seems that a thank you is well in order. For some time now, although more rigorously in the past six months, the author has been instructed in the art under the tutelage of H. Terror Robinson, this site's editor in chief. Thus, appreciation of the highest order is reserved for this awesome and monumental figure. Without Robinson - who has agreed to expand his responsibilities into a more visible role - none of this would be possible. A second thank you is extended to all the musicians featured on these pages. A constant source of wonder and inspiration, without their contributions, the author would have much less to write about. Lastly, a careful acknowledgment must be given to the readers, with free will able to be exercised, who have nonetheless subjected themselves to these ramblings. The author very much appreciates your time and attention, and it is is for you that the promise toward improvement must be kept.
Until the next time orange and white set everything right.
- John Noggle
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