PoeticaL
cluttering the net since 2001

Greg Carlson...the artist extraordinaire...

Saturday, Jan. 26, 2002

Its Saturday afternoon and I’m sitting alone in peace and quiet. I cleaned the bathroom today and listening to my new CD…but I’ll get to that….

I have a friend…teehee…well I have quite a few friends. But this friends name is Greg. I have two friends named Greg..so let me clarify….just in case….this Greg is the artist that paints pictures with eyeballs in them. He’s great. He’s very eccentric and so out there that he reminds me constantly how plane Jane I really am. He and I met where else?….but online. He was in Conneticut at the time but has since moved. He got married and she got pregnant, she left him and gave his child up for adoption and in the last year he’s been through hell. I worry about him so much. I wonder why none of my friends are happy and doing well. Why they’re all down in the dumps with me all the time….

When I met Greg his girlfriend just told him she cheated on him and she left him for the other man and then called him up 4 nights later to tell him that her new man was beating her and could she come back. He said “karma will bite your ass everytime”. He loves her to this day….Edie. Edie…what she did to him…still haunts me in my worst nightmares.

In the last year he’s lost his job to corporate whores who wanted him to wear a tie and he couldn’t’ hang with it. He ended up living in his truck that tended to get flat tires. His mother keeps his cell phone paid no matter what the bill is so she hears from him and so I get to hear from him.

One time Greg sent me a picture of a turd on the side of the road that he took with an instant camera and wrote on the bottom of the picture ‘now that’s poetry’. I cracked up laughing. Greg is the starving artist that you imagine being the main character of a book or movie somewhere. He tells me all the time to write a book about his life. And I’m sure it would be grotesguely interesting. His life brings me to tears very often. The saddest things happen to him and he’s the most beautiful person inside.

Greg and I have absolutely nothing but music and art interests in common. He’s single…a stray animal in the world….he’s so eccentric and yet…..we have everything in common. I think I am just one of those people that can bond with people and the bond is always tight and deep. And once it’s been formed..it’s a lifelong thing as long as the other person values me as a person the way I value them as a person.

He’s had a huge huge influence on my writing. He’s the guy that told me to read Henry Rollins and listen to Carolines Spine and Morphine and Pantera. He’s the guy that broadened my creative horizons. I know that his influence forever changed the path that my pen was on.

Greg is one of those friends that can make me happy to be alive in the flash of a five minute phone call. He’s the type that calls me up and can make me smile no matter what. I admire his tenacity in the light of every horrid thing that’s happened to him. He’s had stalker girlfriends…he’s lost his only child due to the mothers decision to not allow him to have the child….he’s lost everything in the world…laid on the ground with nothing in his possession but his cell phone and his paints in a leather case he made before he ventured out a year and a half ago….. When I get those random phone calls….I smile just knowing he’s alive still….out there somewhere. When I hear his voice I know that the world will turn on its axis like normal another day. And that the possibility of the public being blessed by knowing who he is….will survive another day.

His new band.. “Music Hates You” is opening for Kings X this month…..and I am doing cartwheels of happiness for him. He called me 4 days ago and told me to run out and get a copy of Ben Harper and the Innocent Criminals – Burn to Shine” and then right before I sat down to write out this entry…he called and the song “Please Bleed” was on pretty loud on my stereo in the background when I said “hello?” He said “Kristy you kick ass girl….I love you man….I so love how you dig me like that….”

I know I will never be sorry he was a part of my life. I’ll never forget all those nights he cried all over me….over what Edie did to him. I’ll never forget what I learned about myself from those nights…. I learned that you will gain so much more when you put yourself out there for someone else’s pain.

One night about 3 a.m. on December 1st I got a phone call from Greg. I was awake crying..missing Bucky…wondering how bad it would hurt to drive into oncoming traffic….one of those bad bad nights…he called me up and I remember how it went…

I said, “hello”
He said, “Kristy are you still out there?”
I said “Yes Greg…are you ok?”
He said, “I am now.”
I said, “me too”.
there was a long silence…..
He said, “ok I think I can breath again now…thank you”
*click* went the phone….
I’m not in love with Greg. But I do value him as a person and I do love him.

You can go see some of Greg’s artwork in his Gallery of Crap

Greg wrote me a poem once….I think it’s so beautiful….

i wonder if she feels like me,
is the star above she focuses
the same one i gaze upon
with her in mind

in the morrow of the eve
at dawns waking thought
am i in her painted visions
dancing without regret

in the days droning on
a fog if you try to think
will i be on her mind
will she cut thru to me too

i feel a surge within my soul
to whisper on a breeze
hoping it brushes your hair aside
and whispers i love you.

you turned into my happy thought
and all the paint is colorful
and i walk into a spot of light
the same star your looking at

i knew it was you.
my soulmate.

When I have days of feeling all alone…I remember I am a lucky girl…and realize I am not alone….and I say a prayer that Greg is safe somewhere…not lying on the ground all alone.

-PoeticaL


I will never hear this song and not think of Greg….

how can I hold the part of me that only you can carry
it needs a strength I haven't found
but if it's frightening, I'll bear the cold
and on the telephone
you offer warm asylum

-Toad the Wet Sprocket
“I will not take these things for granted”
3:07 p.m. ::
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